The 

Right Road 

John W. Kramer. , 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



§]^Hp. ®iqujng]^t 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



I 

I 
( 



THE RIGHT ROAD 



HAND-BOOK FOR PARENTS AND 
TEACHERS 



BY 

JOHN W. KRAMER 




NEW YORK 
THOMAS WHITTAKER 

2 AND 3 Bible Housb 
I89I 



5? 



aa1 
.\<i 



Copyright, 1891, 
Y Thomas Whittaker. 



Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
Astor Place, New York 



THIS BOOK, AND HOW TO USE IT. 



The book is an elementary treatment of Christian 
Morality. As such it must reach quite up to the 
thought of Christian Theism. It offers persuasions 
that may be helpful to parents and teachers in the 
training up of children. 

The stories lead from abstract teaching into a more 
genial atmosphere. They are taken from various 
sources. Many are old, and have done duty fre- 
quently ; but to every new child an old story is as 
fresh as when it was first told. These stories are 
intended not merely to explain the teaching, but also 
to enforce it ; and are often used where no explana- 
tion is required. A great authority, Mr. James 
Sully, University of Cambridge, says, — 

''What is called moral instruction should in the 
first stages of education consist largely of present- 
ing to the child's mind examples of duty and virtue 
with a view to call forth his moral feelings and to 
exercise his moral judgment. His own little sphere 

iii 



iv THIS BOOK, AND HOW TO USE IT 

of observation should be supplemented by the page 
of history and of fiction. In this way a wider 
variety of moral action is exhibited, and the level 
of every-day experience is transcended. Such 
instruction is moral education in the full sense, 
since it attracts (or repels) the feelings, as well as 
enlightens the judgment. On the other hand, the 
mere teaching of the parts of the moral law, the 
code of duties, the classification of virtues, and so 
on, while giving knowledge, and to some extent aid- 
ing the intellectual side of the moral faculty, does 
not call the feelings into exercise." 

Other stories may be added to those here pre- 
sented, by a teacher of good judgment. Care must 
be taken in selecting them. There may be found 
any number of non-moral stories on honesty ; and 
many a parable of the gentle virtues finds its way 
into print, which provokes the instincts of a healthy 
juvenile mind. 

The book may be used as a hand-book after the 
teacher has become thoroughly familiar with the 
sense of a lesson. The eye of the teacher must 
meet the eyes of children, and in class work the 
book should be seldom referred to except for help in 
following the sequence, and for reading the longer 
stories. A few answers put in Italics follow ques- 
tions so simple that some bright child of a very 



THIS BOOK, AND HOW TO USE IT. V 

young class may be expected to give these answers ; 
whether or not in the words of the book, is not at all 
important. An answer should be waited for in every 
such case. The teacher may wisely form other 
questions. 

The Scripture texts and the verses from poets at 
the head of the lessons should be memorized by 
scholars. They may be given orally if that be 
necessary; but it is preferable to send the children 
to the Bible for its texts. 

Review lessons should be frequent ; otherwise 
much of what is learned will be lost in the progress 
of further teaching. And the reviews will tax the 
uttermost cleverness of a teacher. 

Every scholar should be carried through the entire 
course a second time, and a few, at least, will need 
it a third time. 

A conscientious use of the book, even in the hand 
of an inexpert teacher, it is hoped, will reveal to 
children the truth that ''Virtue is its own reward." 



CONTENTS. 



PART I. — Introductory. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Myself i 

II. I Ought 9 

III. Why Ought I? 18 

IV. Character ; the Right ; Duty 30 

PART II. — Duty to Self. 

I. Health 39 

II. Cleanliness 49 

III. Temperance 58 

IV. Truthfulness 67 

V. Courage 77 

VI. Self-Control 88 

VII. Order 97 

VIII. Thrift 106 

IX. Culture 114 

X. Purity 127 

XI. The Love of the Right 136 

PART III. — Duty to Others. 

I. The Honor of Parents 148 

II. Brotherliness 159 

III. Patriotism 169 

IV. Honesty 180 

V. Justice 190 

VI. Mercy , . . 200 

Vn. Philanthropy 210 



viii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

VIII. Courtesy 220 

IX. Gratitude 229 

X. Kindness to Animals 239 

PART IV. — Duty to God. 

I. General 248 

II. Reverence 257 

III. Worship 266 

IV. Service 274 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



PART L— INTRODUCTORY, 
1. — MYSELF. 

Cause me to know the way wherein I should walk. — Ps. 143 : 8. 

A tiny new-born child, 
I wept while others smiled : 
My life may end in sleep 
Which smiles while others weep. 

— Arabian Teaching. 

A STRANGER left the train at a small station of a 
railroad, and looked this way and that, not knowing 
in which direction to go. He inquired what way he 
must take to visit an old church. When the right 
road was pointed out, he took it with a brisk and 
confident walk. The stranger asked a question very 
like unto the prayer which the text from the Psalm 
puts up to God. 

I. The first thing we are to study is what is meant 
by the "me" in that text, or that in each one of us 
that is called /, or me^ or self. What is it } 

Let us look at that stranger walking towards the 
old church after he had been directed by the person 
whom he had addressed with words that were very 
like the prayer : " Cause me to know the way wherein 



2 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



I should walk." What part of the man was walk- 
ing? We may be quite ready to answer, his legs 
and his feet, or his body. Let us not be too sure of 
it. His body did the work of walking. But he did 
not ask any one to tell his legs and feet what way 
they should walk in ; he asked some one to tell him 
— the me " in him, what way he should walk in. 
When we say the man walked, we mean that some- 
thing in the man willed and ordered the legs and feet 
to walk in the way that he was told he ought to take. 
What part of the man took pleasure in the walk and 
ordered his body to do the walking } 
The 19117 id. 

The mind, or soul, is a higher part of man than 
the body, for it orders the body what to do. Now, 
there is even a higher part of man than the soul. 
With what is it that a child loves his father and 
mother } 

The heai't. 

Sometimes we say spirit instead of heart. Now, 
the spirit or heart may rule the soul, and is the 
higher part of the mind. 

Then we find three parts in man : a body which 
moves, a soul which thinks and wills, and a spirit 
which loves. Som.etimes we say soid, meaning both 
itself and the spirit ; and again we use the name 
spirit for both of them, and we may say mind for 
either or both. Soul and spirit are so united that we 
can hardly speak of one without including the other, 
only the spirit is the higher part of the mind. What- 
ever name we shall use will mean that in us which 
thinks and wills and loves. 



MYSELF. 



3 



At a slave-market in one of the Southern States, many years 
ago, a smart, active colored boy was put up for sale. A kind 
master, who pitied his condition, not wishing him to have a cruel 
owner, went up to him and said, — 

" If I buy you, will you be honest ? " 

The boy, with a look that baffled description, replied, — 

" I will be honest whether you buy me or not." 

The word-sounds of that noble answer came from 
the mouth of the slave ; but the meaning of the 
words came from a life in the black boy which had 
thought about honesty, and which willed to do right, 
because that life in him loved to do right. Which 
was really the black boy, the body which made the 
sounds, or the soul which ordered the body to speak 
the words 

The soul. 

That was the real self oi the poor and honest slave, 
the soul which made the mouth speak the words. 

One's body is a part of himself, that is, it belongs 
to himself ; but the real self which we call /, or me^ is 
the better and higher part of us, our soul. 

The answer of the boy came from this self, and 
this is the part of him which the Psalmist meant 
when he prayed, " Cause me to know the way where- 
in I should walk." 

II. Now let us learn how much higher and greater 
than our body this self is. 

There was a httle boy who was almost always hungry before 
his meals were ready. He would torment his mother or the 
servant by asking if it was not nearly supper-time, an hour 
before the meal was to be eaten. It was his body that was 
hungry. But one day it happened that he did not know that 
he was hungry. It was a fine summer evening, and he was 



4 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



romping with some merry mates, having a grand good time. 
He forgot how late it was, and when he was called to supper, 
declared there must be some mistake, and that he was not 
hungry. But when he did go in, and got to the table, he found 
his appetite was even better than usual. Now, he told the truth 
out of doors when he said that he was not hungry. Why did 
he not feel hungry 

He was ejijoying himself. 

His soul was having such enjoyment, his mind and 
spirit were so glad, that the gladness kept him from 
feeling hunger. 

Giving the mind and spirit to duty will keep us 
from feeling even pain of the body. 

General Hooker was once in a battle where he was expected 
to fight boldly and look for the first chance of taking his troops 
into action. He was wounded, but his soul did not permit him 
to know that he was wounded. There he sat on horseback, 
struck and hurt without knowing it. When he had done his 
gallant work and came to dismount, he tottered, faint from loss 
of blood, and that was the first he knew of his wound. 

III. Our Heavenly Father has shown to this " me " 
the way wherein it should walk. Where has He 
shown it to us } 

In the Bible. 

And somewhere else ; for there is something which 
tells us that in pointing out this way the Bible is 
true. Where is this something.? 

In oiLV very self. 

This self says, right away, when we are told to 
be good, that it is right to be good. Sometimes we 
are ashamed -of ourselves, — ashamed of selfyN\i^n no 
parent or friend knows that we have done wrong. 
That is, the good self in us is hurt because we have 



MYSELF. 



5 



done wrong ; and that is one's own self saying that 
goodness is right. One loses self-respect in doing 
wrong. 

This shows us that our true life, that is, our good 
self, came from our Heavenly Father, and that we 
are like unto Him. 

IV. The way that we are shown wherein we are 
to walk is the way of truth, courage, and love. That 
means that we are to be true, brave, and loving. 
Perhaps all that we should be belongs to one of these 
three things. 

We know, for this self tells it to us, that truth, 
courage, and love are good and noble, and also that 
falsehood, cowardice, and hatred are bad and mean. 

This learning of the way brings us to the highest 
part of the higher self. There is one part of the 
higher life that learns to read and to think ; the 
other part, which is above that, is the life in us 
that wishes to be good. 

A German boy was reading a blood-and-thunder novel. 
Right in the midst of it he said to himself, " Now, this will 
never do. I get too much excited over it. I can't study so 
well after it. So here goes ! " and he flung the book out into 
the river. He was Fichte, the great German philosopher. 

Now we have learned what is the self in each one. 
And we have found that the highest part of the self 
is that which can love goodness. 

It is as we love goodness that we shall go on in 
these lessons and bid our minds study the way where- 
in we should walk. But if the self knows so much 
about it now, and tells us that truth, courage, and 
love are good, why should we study it } 



6 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



" Mamma, what is the use of making me study music ? I 
know tunes ; I can sing now." That is what a Httle girl said. 

The mother answered, " It is because you have a sweet voice 
and the love of music, that I wish you to study. If you had no 
music in you, I would not think of it. There is very httle use 
of studying anything unless we have something of it in us before 
we study it. And when God puts in us the gift of anything, we 
ought to study it." 

Let no one be sure that he knows all about right 
and wrong. Before Jesus Christ came and taught 
the world, wise men made serious mistakes here. 
The wise men of Sparta did not know how to bring 
up boys to be brave and cunning in war without 
allowmg them to lie and steal. There is a story told 
of a Spartan youth who stole a fox and hid it under 
his clothing, and who denied the theft while the fox 
was eating into his vitals. They called him a hero 
after he died, and said his thieving and lying were 
virtues. They did not know how to make a hero of 
a boy in bidding him stand by truth and honesty. 
The study of what is good, true, and beautiful in our 
life begins when we are children, and goes on as 
long as we live. 

Here is a story by Pastor Kinderfreund which 
points out for us the true self : — 

A war was being fought out in a hot climate. In that country 
water was very scarce. It was only here and there, at great 
distances apart, that wells had been dug, which gave water 
through a season of drought. The two armies which faced 
each other were not fighting on this hot day. One of them was 
holding a httle town on a hill, and the other army had made a 
fort before the town, from which it might sally for attack, and to 
which it might retreat for rest from battle. The town was sup- 
plied with water from a famous well, and the army there had 



MYSELF. 



7 



drink in abundance as long as it held that well. Of course a 
strong guard of soldiers was placed about it to prevent any force 
from the army in the fort breaking through to reach the well 
which was outside of the city gate. The army in the fort was 
suffering extremely from thirst. The other army was glad to 
know that, for the fever of thirst would weaken its victims. 

The thirsting army in the fort was commanded by its king. 
He had a name which meant Beloved. He was a brave man 
and a mighty warrior, and one who had the love of his soldiers. 
He had every reason to fight out this war. He beheved his 
cause to be just, and he was on ground that he knew well, and 
for which he had patriotic affection. The town held by the 
enemy was the place of his birth. He had lived here as a shep- 
herd lad. Many a day had he watched the sheep of his father 
on the plains where he was now encamped ; and on many a hot 
day, like the one to which our story refers, had he gone to the 
famous well to quench his thirst. 

The army must retreat or perish without water. A great 
commander always thinks of this. But feverish thirst is one 
of those painful experiences which may excuse even a general if 
he thinks for a very few minutes of himself alone. " Oh that / 
could get drink ! " was the selfish thought that we may very easily 
forgive. But it was a selfish thought, when others were suffer- 
ing as much as himself. In his agony of thirst this great king 
could not but remember the well of pure and living water from 
which he used to drink in his youth. The thought of it made 
him more wretched. The cry burst from his parched throat, 
" Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the 
well ! " 

Three brave and strong officers, mighty men, heard the moan 
for water. They went to a quiet corner of the fort and con- 
sulted. It was a hazardous undertaking, but they would attempt 
to reach that well and bring back enough of its fresh and cool 
water for their king's drink. Up the valley they crept until they 
came where their approach could no longer be hidden from the 
guard at the well. Then they sprang forward and surprised the 
guard. A sharp and short fight it had to be. The guard was 
beaten back, held at bay for a moment by two, while the third 



^ THE RIGHT ROAD. 

one filled the vessel they brought. Then they fled away with 
the.r precous prize, reached the fort, and were safe 

parched hps and hot tongue - water from the sweet well of his 
boyhood days! How his eyes must have lighted up with joy, 
and h,s hands have trembled with eagerness to satisfy the cravl 
b,dt ™' "^'^ ^^'f always 

from M T ; °' ^^'d keeps us 

irom thml<rng of others. 

But look and listen ! There is a better self in this great man. 
He nses and receives the water, but waits to hear the story of 
hrs bleedmg heroes. He will not now drink of it ; he pours it 
out upon the ground, and gives it to the thirsty sand Nav he 
gives it to God. For his devout words to Heaven are some- 
thmg hke these : " O Lord, this is the blood of men who went 
.n danger of their lives! I offer it to Thee. Let me sufTer 
With my men." 

His better self, his spirit, would not allow the lower part of 
himself to indulge its desire, when that desire had put men in 
danger of their lives. And what was his thirst, more than that 
of every man in his army.? You may be sure that the kin^s 
spirit enjoyed what was far sweeter than drink could have been 
to his body ; and also that the whole army was nerved to endure 
Its thirst. 

This is one of the most beautiful stories we have 
of King David. 



/ OUGHT, 



9 



U. — l OUGHT. 

Herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offence 
toward God and toward men. — Acis 24 : 16. 

What is noble ? — 'tis the finer 

Portion of our mind and heart, 
Linked to something still diviner 

Than mere language can impart. 

— Charles Swain. 

I. A GREAT man told this story of his childhood : — 

When a little boy, my father sent me from the field home. A 
spotted tortoise in shallow water caught my attention, and I 
lifted my stick to strike it, when a voice within me said, " It is 
wrong." I stood with uplifted stick, in wonder at the new 
emotion, till the tortoise vanished from my sight. 

1 hastened home, and asked my mother what it was that told 
me it was wrong. 

Taking me in her arms, she said, " Some men call it con- 
science, but I prefer to call it the voice of God in the soul of 
man. If you listen to it and obey it, then it will speak clearer, 
and always guide you right. But if you turn a deaf ear, or dis- 
obey, then it will fade out httle by little, and leave you in the 
dark, without a guide." 

Conscience is the holy love we have for goodness. 
It is the highest part of the self. It is to our soul 
what our nervous system is to our body. If we run 
a pin into our finger, we feel pain, and that is because 
we have touched and hurt a nerve. When we are 
eating a sweet orange, we are pleased, and that is 
because its juice touches and pleases our nerves. 
Conscience is the feeling of the soul which is pleased 



lO 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



by goodness and pained by badness. Our nervous 
system tells us not to pierce our body with a pin, and 
we seldom do so except by accident. It tells us not 
to eat fruit which we know to be bitter and sour. 
So our conscience tells us to avoid evil. It is the 
wonderful thing in us which whispers "I ought," or 
" I ought not." 

II. This holy thing we call conscience may make 
a mistake. The Spartan boy who stole a fox, and 
lied about it, did so with a good conscience. He did 
not know any better. 

A good priest who was very useful among the 
poor fisher-folk of France is shown to have made 
a mistake. He could sail a boat with any of them ; 
he taught them to be good, nursed them in sickness ; 
when the wild nights of storm came, hung up a lan- 
tern to guide boats to his island home ; and whenever 
a corpse came ashore, gave it sacred burial. He was 
very much loved by the fishermen and their families. 
One poor child died to whom he thought he had not 
been faithful through forgetfulness and overwork. 
His conscience smote him. To punish himself and 
make himself better, he left his charge and went 
away to join a society of monks, live in a cell, and 
never speak to any one. That was what his conscience 
prompted him to do. Now, if he had known better 
he would simply have stayed with his people, and 
tried to do more good by not forgetting anybody. 

The Apostle Paul, whose words are in the text you 
have learned, persecuted Christians with a good con- 
science when he thought them to be only a sect of 
Jewish heretics. 



/ OUGHT. 



A child may know better now than that priest, or 
than the Apostle Paul before his conversion ; but we 
come to some hard places in life where we must think 
and study to know what is right. 

Conscience is the holy love for goodness ; but if 
our mind does not know what goodness is, if we think 
something that is wrong to be right, then conscience 
may lead us to do wrong — and simply because we 
are doing the best we know. The word conscience 
means with knowledge. It shows us that we should 
learn all we can about goodness, and that then this 
holy thing will prompt us to do what we know. 

III. Conscience is the "I ought" in us. It very 
often has to fight against the " I wish." 

What is the " I wish " t Here is something to 
help us to the answer. A boy had a lesson to get, 
and was just seated at his work when a friend of his 
came in and asked him out for a walk. Conscience 
told him that he ought to master that lesson then 
and there. But he threw down his book, and went 
with his comrade. Now, what was the "I wish" 
here t 

His love of pleasure. 

Then there was a little girl whose mother left her 
at home, bidding her to tidy up a room. It was a 
warm day, and there was a great deal out of doors to 
look at ; and so she sat down, hushing the voice of the 
" I ought," that she might have a good time. What 
was the " I wish " here } 

Indolence. 

IV. A very frightful thing may" come to us from 
not minding the I ought." 



12 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



A little dog is said to have forgotten how to bark. 
He belonged to two deaf-and-dumb ladies. He soon 
discovered that they paid no attention to his barking 
unless they were looking at him and saw the move- 
ments of his mouth. So he stopped barking, and 
when he wished to get the attention of one of his 
mistresses, would go to her and pull the skirt of her 
gown. He did not bark for seven years ; and it 
seemed that he had forgotten that a dog was made to 
bark, and did not know how to do so. Tlie gift of 
barking was gone, because he had not used it. 

If we obey the ''I ought," it will continue to speak 
to us, conscience keeps tender and awake ; but if 
we refuse to mind it, then it becomes hardened and 
seems to be dead. It is easier to do a bad thins: 
the second time than the first time, and much easier 
the third time. Conscience, like unto the little dosf, 
may become silent. 

The only thing which will keep conscience alive 
and awake after we have not obeyed it, is for us to 
submit to the pain with which it punishes us. Here 
is a story told by a clergyman of himself : — 

He said that when he was a h"ttle fellow, he was playing one 
winter day with some of his boy friends, when three cents, 
belonging to one of them, suddenly disappeared in the snow. 
Try as they would, they could not find them, and the boys fin- 
ally gave up the search, much to the disappointment of the one 
who owned them. "The next day," said the clergyman, who 
was telling the story, " I chanced to be going by the spot, when 
suddenly I spied the three coins we had been looking for. The 
snow which had covered them the day before had melted, and 
there they lay in full view. I seized them, and put them in mv 
pocket. I thought of the candy I could buy with them, and 



/ OUGHT. 



13 



how fortunate I was to have found them ; and when conscience 
wouldn't keep still, but insisted on telling me what it thought of 
me, and, above all, what God thought of me, I just told it to be 

quiet, and tried to satisfy it by saying that Charlie B had 

given up thinking about his three cents by this time, and that 
the one who found them had the right to them. 

" Well, to make a long story short, I spent the money, ate my 
cand}^ and thought that was the end of the whole matter. But 
I was never more mistaken. Years passed on. I grew from a 
boy into a man, but every now and then those three cents 
would come into my mind. I couldn't get rid of them. They 
would come. However, in spite of them, I had all along a strong- 
desire to be a good boy, and to grow up to be a good man, — a 
Christian man. This desire grew stronger and stronger, for 
God never left me, and so I gave myself to Him, and, finally, 
when I grew up, became a clergyman. Now perhaps you may 
think my trouble was over. But no ; every now and then, those 
THREE CENTS wouM come into my mind as before. Especially 
when I would try to get nearer to God, there were those three 
CENTS right in the way. 

" At last I- saw what God had all along been trying to make 

me see, that I must tell Charlie B that I had taken them ! 

To be sure, he was a man by this time, and so was I, but no 
matter. God told me, as plainly as I am teUing you now, that 
till I had done this, He could not bless me. So, then and there, 
I sat down and wrote to Charlie, enclosing in my note twenty- 
five cents — the three cents with interest. Since then I have 
had peace." 

What should we learn from this story } 
That the best thing for us to do always is to obey our 
conscie7tce. 

Let us recall what the mother of that great man 
said : " Some call it conscience, but I prefer to call 
it the voice of God in the soul of man." She meant 
that conscience speaks " I ought," from our Heavenly 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Father moving it to do so. Its first warning is God's 
whisper to the soul. 

There are many reasons for praying, but the first 
or chief use of prayer is that we may be made wilHng 
to do right. Let us go over the Lord's Prayer, and 
see this. (The sentences of this Prayer should be 
shown as bringing our souls into a readiness to hear 
and obey the Divine Voice. Give us this day our 
daily bread," is not an exception, by any means. This 
much of its higher sense may be understood by a 
child : we are only to wish bread which God sends as 
reward to honest service.) 

A clever writer, known as Aunt Fanny," gives us 
a story something like this : — 

All the morning little Bertie had been playing out in the hot 
sun, and Jack, the dear old dog, whose bald forehead and big 
white whiskers made him look like grandpa, had been jumping, 
barking, and playing too. 

It happened that on this day Bertie fell fast asleep in the 
barn — he was so tired romping with Jack; but the good dog 
kept wide awake, and sat close to the boy keeping watch, and 
looking very grave and important. 

Presently a troubled, wistful look comes over Bertie's sleep- 
ing face. He is dreaming. Would you like me to tell you his 
dream ? 

But first you must know that Bertie had broken a china cup 
that morning. He had gone down to the brook at the bottom of 
tlie meadow, and, after taking a drink and giving Jack some, had 
tried to catch in his cup one of those dragon-flies which dart to 
and fro under the water, waiting for their wings to grow. But 
all Bertie caught was a cupful of little beads of foam, for the 
dragon-flies knew very well how to keep out of his way, till at 
last, without meaning to do it, Bertie banged his cup against a 
mossy stone, and that time all he brought up was its handle ; 



/ OUGHT. 



15 



the rest sank in pieces through the transparent water, and lay at 
the bottom of the brook, white, still, and gleaming. 

Bertie stared at the handle in his hand, and then down at the 
pieces in the water, with his heart beating like a drum, while 
Jack slowly wagged his tail from side to side, and looked with 
his beautiful brown eyes straight into the little boy's face. 

" I'll say Jack did it," said Bertie, putting the handle in his 
pocket. " Come, now, I don't care ; I'll just say that Jack 
did it." 

The good dog pricked up his ears at this ; then standing on 
his hind legs, he toddled backwards four or five steps, his 
mouth and eyes wide open with astonishment at such wicked- 
ness ! That is, a Httle spirit, called Conscience, who lived in 
Bertie's heart, seemed to whisper to him that poor Jack knew 
that he had said that he would do this sinful, mean thing. He 
could not bear to look at the dog ; but jumping up, he pushed 
the broken cup handle far down in his pocket, and began to run 
with all his irdght across the meadow, as if in this way that 
rebuking httle conscience would be left behind. 

When quite tired out, he trotted into the barn, and throwing 
himself upon the fragrant hay, he was soon fast asleep, and 
dreaming. 

In his dream he was still sitting on the bank of the stream, 
looking down at the broken bits of the cup, when suddenly there 
came swimming swiftly towards him, through the clear water, a 
beautiful fairy. She rose gracefully up through the blue crisp 
little waves, the foam beads resting like strings of pearls on her 
golden hair. She came close up to Bertie, kissing her hand to 
him, and laughing merrily. 

But there was a strange gleam in her bright eyes, which 
made Bertie shrink from her, as she laid her soft white hand on 
his shoulder, and asked him in a low, sweet, tempting voice: — 

" Bertie, do you love sponge cake ? " 

" Oh, yes, dearly ! " he answered. 

"And ice-cream, and lemonade 

" Yes, better than cake." 

" And candy ?" 

" Oh, yes, best of all ! " said Bertie. 



i6 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



"Well, if you will run to the house, and tell your mother that 
Jack broke this" — pointing down to the pieces of the cup — 
" I will build you a lovely sponge-cake house, close by this 
pretty singing brook ; and as fast as you eat up the doors and 
windows, I will renew them. Then every day we will sail 
together upon the water, turned into delicious lemonade ; the 
boat shall be made of candy, and loaded with ice-cream. When 
you are tired of sailing, you shall have a pony to ride upon ; you 
shall ride through whole forests of Christmas trees, loaded with 
toys, which you may pick off and play with whenever you 
choose. You may have all these things, if you will tell a lie.'''' 

There the little boy lay dreaming, tempted, hesitating, 
troubled, while the good faithful dog kept watch, ready to tear 
any one in pieces who offered to hurt only so much as one hair 
of his head. 

Sometimes, in that part of the country where Bertie lives, a 
small venomous snake makes its nest under the floor of a barn. 
One of these awful little reptiles was now creeping slowly round 
Bertie's leg. Round and round it crept, until it reared its ugly 
head above Bertie's knee. Up and up it crawled, till at last it 
touched the feathery hair on Jack's face. 

The dog felt the touch and looked down. In an instant, 
with a short, angry bark, he was upon it. The bark awakened 
Bertie, who, seeing the snake, screamed with terror. The next 
moment the good dog had killed it, and flung it upon the floor. 

With the impression of his dream strong upon him, Bertie 
threw his arms round Jack's neck, and bursting into tears, 
sobbed out : — 

" Oh, no, no, no, Jack ! I woii't say that you broke the cup. 
Come, quick! let us go and tell that I did it. /broke the cup! 
Oh, come, dear Jack!" 

Still hugging him, still sobbing out his penitent sorrow, 
Bertie ran out of the barn, and met his mother just at the door; 
for, hearing him scream, she had hurried to him, to see what 
was the matter. 

" Why, Bertie," she asked, " what has happened ? " 

Out came the broken handle in an instant, and with trembling 
lips, he cried, *' Look, mamma ! I broked it. Jack didn't. Jack 



/ OUGHT. 



17 



killed the snake. He is a good dog. Come in and see, but, oh, 
mamma ! don't go too near ! perhaps it isn't quite deaded yet." 

She went in, and saw, with a shudder, the venomous snake 
lying there dead, and thanked God — oh, how earnestly! — for 
the safety of her dear Httle son. Then she had to hug Jack, 
and Bertie hugged him again, and all this hugging delighted 
the good dog so much that it was fortunate his tail was made 
fast at one end, or he certainly would have wagged it off. 

And now, Bertie taking his mother's hand, and Jack frisking 
on the other side of her, all three returned to the house as happy 
as happy could be. 

There, sitting in his mother's lap, Bertie told about the 
broken cup, and, hiding his face on her shoulder, confessed 
that he wickedly meant to cast the blame upon poor Jack. 
Then he related his wonderful dream, whicli was so suddenly 
ended by a real fright and danger, and how that dear, good dog 
had saved his life; to all of which his mamma listened, with 
tears in her loving eyes, and Jack, with the most astonishing 
wags of his tail, standing on his hind legs, and resting his fore- 
paws on her knee. When Bertie ended with — "See, mamma. 
Jack knows that I am sorry ; he knows that I won't tell a lie to 
get him whipped, don't he ? See, he wags his tail ; he says 
' Yes ' " — Jack gave a loud joyful bark, which was certainly dog- 
Latin for "yes" as plain as could be. 

And that night, when Bertie said his prayers at his mother's 
knee, he begged that Jesus, the Friend of children, who was 
once Himself a little child, would help him to drive away every 
temptation to do wrong, and would cause the little spirit of 
Conscience, strong and pure, to dwell in his heart always. 



i8 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



HI. _ WHY OUGHT I? 



The law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good. — 
Ro7n, J : 12., 

Onward, onward, may we press 

Through the path of duty ; 
Virtue is true happiness, 

Excellence true beauty. 

— Montgomery. 

I. Anna Quickly was offended with something that Mary 
Positive had done. Anna gave some rude words to Mary, and 
then went home and told her mother of the quarrel. The 
mother at once tried to show her daughter that she had been 
returning evil for evil, and that she ought to become friendly 
again with Mary. But Anna said she could not do that ; she 
never wished to speak to "her" again, and she was not going 
to humble herself to "that girl." 

Her mother replied, — 

" If I should command you to visit Mary, and you did it only 
to mind me, it would not come from 3-our heart. Go aside and 
think about it like a Christian girl, and find what you ought to 
do. Take this as the beginning of your thought — 3'ou have 
made Mary unhappy." 

Later in the evening Anna said, " Mamma, I have not only 
made Mary unhappy, I am unhappy myself I wish it w^ere not 
too late to see her to-night. I shall ask her pardon." 

" What good will that do ? " asked her mother. 

" I think it will make us both happy. It will make her happy 
because it w^ill be taking back the ugly things I said; it will 
make me happy because I shall undo my wrong," wms Anna's 
answer. 

Her mother said, " Suppose you should find it very hard 
to-morrow to ask pardon " 



WHY OUGHT I? 



"Well, mother, it will do me good to pum'sh myself. The 
asking pardon seems to fit in all around. It's right.'''' 

" Yes, my child, it is .the right thing. Easy and pleasant 
things are sometimes right — just as is a kiss from your mother 
at this moment ; but hard things are also sometimes right. 
Food is good when we are hungry bitter medicine just as good 
for us when we are sick." 

Now why did the mother prefer not to command 
or order her child to do what was friendly t 

She wished Anna to do it from her heart. 

What did Anna have to see, in order to do so from 
her heart } 

That it was right. 

When the "I ought" speaks to us, it does not 
often stop to reason with us ; it shows us something 
of its reason in speaking. Because it does speak, 
seems to be reason enough. 

II. But in our study of these lessons we may try to 
find out why we ought to do what conscience says 
we should do. For instance, why should we speak 
the truth 

Several answers are given. One is, because God 
commands it ; another, because it is our duty to 
our fellow-men ; another, because we could not live 
together in peace if all men were liars ; another, 
because it is right. 

All these are true reasons. The first and the last 
we may put together, and make them one, — -God 
commands it because it is right. 

Whenever we stop to think as conscience is whis- 
pering to any one of us, " I ought," the reason that 
it shows to us is, " This appears to be right." 



20 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



When Robinson Crusoe was all alone on the 
island, before he found Friday, he ought to have 
been a true and honest man. Without any one to 
speak the truth to, or to be honest with, he ought to 
ha\ie been true and honest. Or he would have been 
false, and mean, and ugly in his soul. He should 
have been a good man because it was right to be 
good. 

But while we can think of Robinson Crusoe with- 
out any fellow-man near, we cannot think of him as 
being alone without God. God saw reason for com- 
manding anything, and the reason was that the thing 
was good and right. God's reason for giving a com- 
mandment is reason for our obedience to it. 

That is why we read in St. Paul's Epistle to the 
Romans: ''The law is holy, and the commandment 
holy, and just, and good." 

When we were very little children, what was 
our reason for doing anything that we were told 
to do } 

That we were told to do it. 

After a while, as our mind grew, we saw that what 
a wise father or mother told us to do was right. And 
so we learned that our parents commanded us to do 
anything because it seemed to be right. Then we 
found, if we thought about it, that the reason why 
a thing should be done, was the reason in our parents' 
minds for ordering it, — that it was right. 

And so we take this reason that we reverently 
think to be in the mind of our Heavenly Father, 
to be the reason v^^hy a good thing ought to be done 
and a bad thing should not be done. 



WHY OUGHT I? 



21 



III. But the other reasons are of very great use 
to us. 

Quite a company of boys and girls, on an excursion to a grove, 
wished to put a swing from the limb of a tree. James Strong 
said that he could climb the tree and affix the rope. He made 
the effort, but lost his hold and strength before he was far 
enough up, and so slid down. He was a little ashamed, but 
that only made him the more determined. He recovered his 
breath and strength, and went at his climbing now with vigor. 
But this time he failed quite badly ; and as he came down the 
trunk with rapid sliding — on the run, as it were — he cut a 
most ludicrous figure, for his trousers were carried up to his 
knees. Then his younger brother, who was in the company, 
could not keep from laughing outright. This added to James's 
shame, and made him angry. Another thing increased his 
anger — his trousers were torn. Now, an angry boy is not apt 
to think about right and wrong. His impulse was to run at his 
smaller brother, and punish him with a severe blow of his fist. 
Quick as was his temper would have been the blow, but that 
suddenly there came the thought of his mother, who had told 
him never to do such an act. He did, however, speak rudely to 
his brother, and then went away to hide both his shame and his 
anger. 

What was the uppermost thought in James's mind 
which kept him from striking an angry blow } 
His mother' s command. 

When "I wish" fights against "I ought," it is of 
great service to us to know that God commands a 
good thing or forbids an evil thing. The wish to 
please our Heavenly Father will help us, without any 
thought of God's reason for a commandment. 

IV. And thus also the reason that a right thing 
is duty to our fellow-men is helpful to us. 

Righteousness is a great word, and it means study- 



22 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



ing and doing what is right. Its laws are so true 
that good and right deeds make the world beautiful. 
Indeed, everything that is right is called the good, 
the true, the beautiful. 

We know this of every person, that badness makes 
any one hateful in the sight of others, and that good- 
ness makes one pleasing to others. And though 
many try to hide badness and pretend to be good, 
as there is goodness which shows itself to a close 
observer, so badness cannot be always hidden. 

Some one says : — 

"Did you ever see a gutta-percha face ? And did you ever 
amuse yourselves with pinching it one way and pulHng it 
another, and seeing what different expressions it will put on? 
When you cease pulling and pinching it, it returns to the same 
face it was before. 

" Now, your little faces are softer than gutta-percha, and they 
are full of Httle strings called muscles ; and the little muscles 
pull them one way, and pull them another, just according to your 
feelings. Sometimes you feel grieved or sad, and the little mus- 
cles pull your face into a very doleful expression, and we know 
by looking at you just how you feel. Sometimes you feel 
pleased or merry, and the little muscles pull your faces into 
smiles and dimples. 

"But often there are wicked passions at work at the strings. 
Anger pulls, and, oh ! what a disagreeable look the face puts on 
in a minute. Pride pulls the strings, or vanity, or envy, or dis- 
content, or deceit ; and each brings its own expression over the 
face. 

"The worst of it is, that when these passions pull very often, 
the face does not return to what it was before, but the muscles 
harden and retain that ugly expression. By indulging in evil 
passions, people may work their faces up into such awful faces, 
that sometimes when you meet a man in the street, you can tell, 
just by looking at his face, what his character is. 



WHY OUGHT I? 



23 



" A face that was very lovely when it was that of a child, has 
had the passion of anger pulling at it so often that it always 
wears a sullen, cross, dissatisfied look. Or if a man has learned 
to love to hoard up money for its own sake, his face gets a mean, 
grasping look, and we say, when we pass him, ' There goes a 
miser.' Or, if he has learned to lie and steal, he cannot make 
his face that of a truthful, honest man. 

" Do you want to have pleasant faces that everybody will love 
to look at ? Then don't let the ugly passions get hold of the 
strings. Put them in the hands of Love and Charity, and 
Good-will, and Truth, and Honesty, then they will be beautiful 
faces. 

" There are faces without a single handsome feature, sweeter 
to look at than the most perfect features that ever were formed. 
And why ? It is the expression. And what makes the expres- 
sion ? Oh, it all depends upon whether the bad passions or the 
lovely virtues get hold of the little strings." 

An Italian artist met with a child of exquisite beauty, and 
wished to preserve its features for fear he should never see such 
loveliness again. So he painted the charming face upon canvas, 
and hung it upon the walls of his studio. In his sombrest 
hours that sweet, gentle countenance was like an- angel of light 
to him. Its presence filled his soul with the purest aspirations. 
" If ever I find," he said, " a perfect contrast to this beauteous 
face, I will paint that also, and hang them side by side, as ideal 
of heaven and hell." Years passed. At length, in a distant 
land, he saw, in a prison he visited, the most hideous object he 
ever gazed upon, — a fierce, haggard fiend, with glaring eyes and 
cheeks deeply furrowed with lust and crime. The artist remem- 
bered his vow, and immediately painted a picture of this loath- 
some form, to hang beside the lovely boy. The contrast was 
perfect. His dream was realized. What was the surprise of 
this artist, on inquiry into the history of this horrid wretch, to 
find that he was once that lovely little boy! Both of these pic- 
tures, the angel and the demon of the same soul, now hang side 
by side in the Tuscan gallery. 



24 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Listen to the great difference between the sound 
of a loving voice, and that of an angry voice. 
Look at the difference between a smile and a 
frown. 

The difference between the beauty of goodness 
and the ugliness of evil is so marked that we can 
tell when anger is right and when it is wrong. Just 
as there is a blackness which has polish and shines, 
so there is a frown which is noble, and an angry 
voice which has music in it. 

General Washington became angry at the battle 
of Monmouth, because General Lee had turned, with 
part of the army under his command, to run from 
the enemy. Lee's duty was to hold the British army 
by fighting it until Washington reached him with the 
force that was marching to the field. It has been 
said that when Washington found Lee ordering a 
retreat, he so far forgot himself as to be profane. 
This is so unlike the character of Washington, that 
we may hesitate to credit the charge. But he de- 
nounced Lee so severely that we can understand how 
such an account might be added to the story. 
Washington's anger was no mean and selfish thing. 
It was a great thing, and a righteous thing. Lee 
was putting the whole army in danger, and exposing 
the cause of his country to defeat. His conduct, 
even if it was only from mistake, could only be met 
and changed by noble anger. 

Thus it is we see our Lord driving those from 
the Temple who were making God's house a den 
of thieves. Thus it is we hear Him denouncing the 
Pharisees for shutting the kingdom of Heaven against 



WHY OUGHT I? 



25 



men. It was holy indignation determined to stand 
against cruel wrong. 

The difference between the two kinds of anger is, 
we stoop to that which is bad, and rise to that which 
is just. 

V. In thinking of God commanding what is right 
and being pleased with our doing right, we reach the 
highest religious thought. Now, religion and moral- 
ity are so nearly related that we can hardly separate 
them. Religion is more than morality, but morality 
is a part of religion. Just think of love for our 
fathers and mothers ! — it is much greater than 
obedience to them. But obeying them is part of our 
love for them. The knowledge of morality came to 
all men with religion. No religious life is true that 
is not moral. And religion puts enthusiasm or life 
into morality. 

Religion comes out of our love of God and of our 
brother man. Morality, is the study and practice of 
what is right. (Get scholars to memorize this 
paragraph.) 

We see at once that the two belong to one another. 
Look at a light in the night time. You see the 
flame that gives brightness. You may have the oil 
in a metal vessel where you do not see it, or the light 
may be from gas in a tube, or from the electric fluid 
running through wires ; but you know that there would 
be no flame, no light at all, unless there was some- 
thing to feed the light. We may think of rehgion as 
being like unto the oil, and of morality as like unto 
the flame of light. Our Lord had this thought of 
the two when He said, " Let your light so shine 



26 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



before men that they may see your good works, and 
glorify your Father which is in heaven." 

Religion leads to the growth of love in our soul ; 
the study and practice of morality/, to the growth of 
our character. The honest good works which belong 
to morality have always come with religion. It was 
reverence for God which led men to ask what is good 
and right. Mark the word honest used here with 
good works. Some kind of good may be done by a 
man or a child who is afraid to be bad. But honest 
good works come out of love, which is the highest 
part of religion. 

We have seen that studying and doing the right 
tend toward a pleasing appearance. Let us remem- 
ber however, that the tru-e beauty is that of the soul, 
of the higher self. A story told to children in Italy 
shows this. It is called The Lame Man. . 

No, no, little boys, it was not right. Yesterday I saw you 
moclc Matthew, because he is lame and walks with a crutch. 
Never mock any one or blame others for defects which are 
neither a fault nor a sin. You are healthy, straight, and well 
made, but do you deserve praise for being so Certainly not : it 
is God who has made you so, and you ought to thank Him for 
it. But if you had been born or had become maimed, or hump- 
backed,, would it have been your fault And to punish an 
innocent person is a sin. Believe me, it is punishing, and 
punishing severely, too, to reproach another with his bodily 
defects ; for in so doing we show our contempt and aversion for 
him, whilst we should wish rather to inspire others with esteem 
and love for us. Then, instead of ill-treating them, show them 
only more kindness ; if they are poor, help them with good-will ; 
if they are not in want (and it is more difficult to aid them if they 
are not), avoid not only words, but every look or gesture which 
might possibly remind them of their misfortune ; if they ar-i 



WHY OUGHT I? 



27 



your companions, do not distinguish them from the others, 
unless it is by loving them more, and strive to console them by 
your courtesy, as you would a sick person. Again, how do you 
know that that miserable body is not animated by a noble soul, 
a brilliant genius ? How many who have acquired fame, by 
paintings, by letters, or by their knowledge, how many excellent 
masters and fathers of families, were crooked and deformed! 
And you would despise them ? No, rather esteem them the 
more. And why ? Because they make up for the ugliness of 
their bodies by the splendid quahties of their minds. 

Alfonso and Sabina were brother and sister, the former very 
handsome, with a fresh rosy face, the latter so meagre, sickly, 
and crooked, that it made one sorry to see her. Their father 
one day made each a present of a looking-glass, saying to them 
at the same time, " Look at yourselves in these, so that you, 
Alfonso, finding yourself possessed of an agreeable form, may 
do your utmost to prevent that form from being spoiled by vice, 
and that you, Sabina, may try to acquire as much beauty of 
mind as you v/ant of body." 

And tell me, boys, when you see the old soldier George 
sitting on the bench at the door, smoking his pipe, does it enter 
your head ever to make fun of him ? Nevertheless, he, poor 
man, has a wooden leg and but one eye. But you do not mock 
him, because you know that his valor lost him that limb. This 
country, attacked by the enemy, was in great danger. George, 
with other young men, took arms, as every one should do when 
their own country is in danger, fought with great courage, 
routed the enemies, and freed the country. He did not repine 
at his misfortune, because it is a proof of his valor. He returned 
to his home poor and maimed ; every one bade him welcome, 
every one was willing to give him a meal, and to hear him tell 
of the battles of himself and his fellow-soldiers. And lame 
Matthew, whom you saw and laughed at yesterday, do you know 
who he is ? 

At the age of eighteen he was as straight and well made as it 
was possible to be. One night he heard a noise : the bell for 
fire was ringing, and many people running. He ran out on the 
balcony, and saw at a little distance a house all on fire. He 



28 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



hurried as quickly as he could, for he knew that every one ought 
to help their fellow-creatures when they are in any danger. When 
he arrived among the people, some of whom were trying to save 
furniture and some bringing water, he beheld a poor lady weep- 
ing, and shrieking, and tearing her hair. She had been saved 
from the fire; but what is it to a mother to be saved herself, 
when her child is still in danger ? The child of this lady was 
quietly sleeping in a chamber near the roof, and those who 
saved the lady who had fainted away from fright from the fire, 
never thought of the baby. Oh, you all have a mother, you 
know how she loves you, you know how much she has done for 
you, and do you feel grateful enough for this love ? I leave you 
to imagine what this unhappy mother felt when she saw the 
flames increase near the room where the child yet remained. 
She screamed, she embraced the knees of first one and then 
another, praying them for pity's sake, for the love of God, that 
they would save her Httle son. All were filled with compassion, 
but who would risk his life in that fire ? Who 1 The lame 
Matthew ! He saw, he heard the lady, he exclaimed, " I will ! " 
and while he spoke, he got a long wooden ladder and leaned it 
against the roof, where the fire was less ardent, and mounted. 
All were attentive to watch him, all exclaimed, " Bravo, bravo ! 
Heaven help you ! " 

Alone, the mother on her knees, with her arms extended 
towards him, her eyes fixed on his every movement, her blood 
frozen, and a cold sweat on her brow, saw nothing, heard 
nothing but the generous Matthew. He climbs and climbs. At 
length he reaches the top and enters by a garret window. He 
appears again. He opens the window and lets down the child 
in a basket. How the mother's heart beat when she saw her 
child there suspended in the air, in the midst of the flames ! 
What a shower of kisses and caresses she gave it when it came 
within her reach and she could press it to her bosom! It was 
not the least terrified, as children at that early age do not per- 
ceive danger. Now Matthew appears on the roof He gains 
the ladder, but the flames are raging, spreading on every side. 
The ladder falls, burnt in two, when he has but reached the 
middle of it. He is thrown with force to the ground, and 



WHY OUGHT I? 



29 



breaks his leg. The mother never left him while he was ill, and 
nursed him with care, but she could not help him with money, 
as she had lost all in the fire. The people of the country at first 
helped him a little, but afterwards they forgot him, and he 
remained poor and unable to work. 

And you mocked him because he lamed himself in saving the 
life of a fellow-creature, and made a mother happy ! From this 
hour try to amend, and show your esteem for his noble deed by 
helping him in every way that you can. 



30 



THE RIGHT ROAD, 



IV. — CHARACTER; THE' RIGHT; DUTY. 

Let every man prove his own work, and then shall he have rejoicing in him- 
self alone. — Gal. 6:4. 

Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, 
Whene'er is spoke a noble thought, 

Our hearts in glad surprise 

To higher levels rise. 

— Longfellow. 

There are three great words that belong to the 
study of morality : they are cJiaracter, the right, and 
duty. We must learn something about these words. 

I. Old Dame Knitter was thought to be very close-fisted. 
Soon after becoming a widow, when she had to go out and buy 
many things that her husband used to get for her, some one 
cheated her. She got the idea that people were ever ready to 
take the advantage of a woman. This made the dame try to 
appear sharp. She was always asking shopkeepers to take less 
than the price asked for goods, believing that an overcharge was 
first made. She had the habit of counting her change over 
twice, and then she put it away carefully in her purse, and then 
to her pocket. She was very saving. She reproved her servant 
for any waste. And so everybody said that she was stingy. 
That was what people thought her to be ; that was her reputa- 
tion. All this time Mrs. Knitter was paying quietly for the 
musical education of a young girl who was left a penniless 
orphan and who had musical talent. And no one knew of it but 
the two or three persons who had to know it, — a friend who 
had called the attention of Mrs. Knitter to the girl's need, the 
girl herself, and the teacher. Now the good old dame's charac- 
ter was generous, while she was called stingy. 



CHARACTER ; THE RIGHT; DUTY. 



31 



What, then, is the difference between reputation 
and character ? 

ReptLtatio7i is what others say we are ; character is 
what we are. 

II. Some persons may be better by nature than 
others, but after, all character is what we make this 
self of ours to be. 

There are two kinds of character ; what are they ? 

Good and bad. 

There is a little incident told us which shows a 
character naturally good : — 

A minister says : " I once walked a short distance behind a 
well-dressed young lady, thinking as I looked at her becoming 
apparel, ' I wonder if she takes as much pains with her heart as 
she does with her body.' An old man was coming up the walk 
with a loaded wheelbarrow, and before he reached us he made 
two attempts to go into the yard of a small house ; but the gate 
was heavy, and would swing back before he could get through. 
' Wait,' said the young girl, springing lightly forward, ' I'll hold 
the gate open.' And she held the gate open until he passed in, 
and received his thanks with a pleasant smile as she went on. 
' She deserves to have graceful attire,' I thought, ' for a beauti- 
ful disposition dwells in her breast.' " 

This young woman had a character that was gentle, 
kind, and helpful. It was as natural for her to hold 
that gate open as it was to walk. 

Let us look at a character that was made good 
where it was naturally bad : — 

Harry Gough had a quick temper. It is a very bad thing, and 
it is very hard for any one to get cured of it. A quick-tempered 
person often takes offence where another never meant to say or 
do a thing which would hurt him. And where a very little joke 
has been played upon such a person, his quick and high temper 
has often led him to strike a harder blow than he intended, and 



32 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



sometimes such a blow has even killed others. Harry Gough 
had frequently been warned by his mother that it was his duty 
to cure himself. His mother could not cure him ; no one but 
ourselves can cure us of any such evil thing. He was told that 
he could do this for himself if he would only pray over it and 
ask the Heavenly Father to help him. But it is not easy to pray 
w^hen another has just struck us, and our temper is aroused ; it 
is not easy to think about anything else but striking back. 
Harry was taught to be a young gentleman, but he had been in 
as many fights as any bully. A boy, in half play, kicked Harry's 
marble out of the ring one day, and it rolled away into a gutter. 
Just as soon as Harry's eye had followed his marble, he struck 
the boy a stinging blow on the side of his head. The boy fell 
down unconscious. He was carried home, and Harry for some 
time was afraid that his victim would die. Then the awful nature 
of a quick temper was fully seen by him. What ! to kill a 
playmate as punishment for the slight offence of kicking his 
marble away ! He hoped that God would bring the poor fellow 
back to his senses. The stricken one was a long time sick 
before coming to know anything, and he was never cured. He 
was deaf in the ear of the hurt side of his head all his life. 
Now Harry took to praying at the right time, when he was cool 
and could pray. He prayed that he might think and hold his 
temper when anything should be done to excite it. The first 
time he resisted, he found it easier to do so than he thought it 
would be ; and it became easier as time went on. He did not 
get rid of his temper altogether, but he got so that when it was 
ready to burn within him he could master it. He could look 
over in his mind any offence which angered him, and ask him- 
self what it was right for him to do about it, before he did 
anything. 

Whenever we think a thing, speak a thing, do a 
thing, we are making our very self, — we are making 
character. 

III. The good character is that which finds pleas- 
ure in the right, and is always ready to stand against 



CHARACXER ; THE RIGHT; DUTY. 



33 



the wrong. Here is what was told of a little girl 
who loved the right : — 

Speck is a sensible dog. Rosa thinks he understands every 
word she says. And indeed he does seem to give very intelH- 
gent assent to her remarks, though he says little himself. He 
sits up before her with a countenance wise, wistful, appreciative, 
while she explains to him the difference between himself and 
little girls. 

" Speck," she says, " you are made with four legs, all of the 
same length ; and since you cannot run on three of them, it is 
plain that you were not intended to roll hoops. Now, Belle and 
I have hands ; I'm sorry for you, poor old fellow, that you have 
none ; and as two feet apiece is all we need for running, we can 
guide our hoops where we wish. And now you understand 
that this is our game ; so you must stay here in the garden, 
while we go and play on the sidewalk. Do you hear ? " 

Speck barks a little in assent, and, with an air of resignation, 
places his paw upon her lap, as much as to say, " Here's my 
hand — such as it is. I give you my word of honor I'll not 
undertake to roll hoop this morning." So he curls himself up 
for a nap beneath the window, while the little girls betake 
themselves to their play. 

But no sooner does the sound of their frolicking reach his 
ears than he is off with a bound, over the fence, and in the midst 
of their fun, throwing down the hoops, tripping the boasted httle 
feet, and running away with the fallen hats. 

Belle is greatly indignant, in fact thrown into very ill-humor, 
at having their sport so interrupted. 

But Rosa, ever ready in defence of her pet, says apologeti- 
cally, " Well, he is only a dog." And then she falls to thinking 
more about the difference between dogs and little girls. She 
sees that it does not consist in the number of feet and hands 
that they severally possess, so much as it does in a certain some- 
thing within which tells a child right from wrong. 

" I know what it is ! " she exclaims presently ; " it is con- 
science ! " And she calls Speck to her knee to receive another 
little lecture. 



34 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



" Speck," she says, with uplifted finger, " you have no con- 
science, and that is why I shall not punish you for being so 
naughty to-day. You did not know it was wrong to break an 
agreement ; but if I should do such a thing, it would be a great 
sin." 

"Yes," says Speck, with a meek little bark, "and if you 
please, I'd rather be a dog than a little girl. A conscience 
would be so troublesome." 

" But I wouldn't," Rosa replied, " I am glad I have a con- 
science, and that I am taught how to listen to it and obey it. 
Oh ! I a7)i glad that I am Rosa, and not you, Speck ! " 

We read a book which is the " life " of some great 
man or woman, and it helps us to build up character. 
If we see the good that was in a beautiful life, and 
wish it to be in our life, we will imitate that good. If 
we see in any great person, whose name is in history, 
what is low and bad, we ought to despise that mean- 
ness. 

Keeping good conipafiy helps us. We see in our 
friends what is good, and we try to imitate them. 

Who gave the highest example that the world has 
ever had } 

Our Lord Jesus Christ. 

child's temptations are no harder for a child 
than a man's temptations are for a man. It is as 
much a child's duty to be faithful and just and kind 
on the playground, or at school, or at home, as it is a 
man's duty to be just and honest and true in the 
counting-room or in the senate hall. It is just as 
much a child's duty to imitate the boy Jesus, as it is a 
man's and a woman's duty to imitate the man Jesus." 

If Jesus Christ has given us the highest and only 
perfect example, why do we ever study any other 



CHARACTER ; THE RIGHT; DUTY. 



35 



life ? For this reason : men and women have been 
placed where He was not placed, and the goodness 
that was in Him governed their action. Jesus Christ 
never was a soldier, but He has made thousands of 
faithful soldiers. The perfect holy life of Jesus 
Christ, who is called the Light of the World, is like 
the sunshine which brings us in one place a lily, in 
another place a rose, and somewhere else a great 
oak-tree. 

IV. Now let us go back and get our three great 
words. What are they 

Character, the Right, and Ditty. 

These three words are related to one another like 
brothers and sisters. Character is always built up 
by the intention to do right, and the right is always 
our duty. 

Intention \s> a word that we must pause to examine. 
It is more like aiming than anything else we can 
think of. If we aim at a mark, we intend to hit it. 
A good intention aims to reach duty. 

Remember, we may not always know the right, 
and that is why we must study it. But let our 
intention always be for the right, even though we 
may make a mistake. 

There was a boy who did a wrong thing when he meant to 
do a very beautiful act of charity. He had a penny with which 
he wished to buy a top. He met a beggar limping on a crutch. 
Surely, he thought, the lame beggar needed help more than he 
did a top ; and he gave his penny. He was only helping an 
idle impostor to get money without working for it. The boy did 
not know of an office where the man could have found aid if he 
needed it, and where impostors are soon found out. The truth- 
ful boy could not think that a man would be so false as to 



36 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



pretend lameness. By this mistake the man was encouraged to 
go on in imposition. But the boy intended to do right, and his 
character was made more tender in its sympathy and stronger 
in self-denial. 

Every time we intend to do right, our character is 
made stronger for duty ; just as, every time we try to 
hit a mark, our aim gets better. 

The French knight Bayard has shown to the world what 
nobleness character may reach by attention to conscience. 
He won the fame of the knight "without fear and without 
reproach." He lived about four hundred years ago. His boy- 
hood and youth were all that his tutors could wish. In the 
service of his king, Bayard led the attack upon a town in Italy, 
leaped the rampart, and was wounded in the thigh by a pike, 
the handle of which broke and left the spear-head in his flesh. 
He said, " The town is gained, but I shall never enter it. I am 
wounded to the death." But he was not then to die. After the 
victory was completely gained, he was lifted from the midst of 
the dead and dying, and carried on a wooden gate to the nearest 
dwelling. The master of this house had fled with all the men 
who had been driven from the defence, and there were left at 
home his wife and two daughters. In those cruel days it was 
an awful thing for women to be left at the mercy of conquering 
soldiers. 

When Bayard had been carried into an apartment, the lady 
fell upon her knees beside him and said, "Noble lord, all is 
yours by the laws of war. I only ask that you will save from 
harm myself and my daughters." 

Bayard, scarcely able to speak, answered, " I do not know 
whether I shall recover from this wound ; but as long as I live, 
neither you nor your daughters shall suffer any injury." 

He was found to be recovering from the wound sooner than 
could have been expected. He had just begun to get better 
when he had inquiry made and discovered the hiding-place of 
the man in whose house he was. He sent for the man, and 
assured him of protection. When Bayard was ready to leave 



CHARACTER ; THE RIGHT; DUTY. 



37 



and take the field again, the owner of the house and his wife 
thought of the ransom that must be paid for their protection. 
They collected all they had, 2,500 golden ducats, put the money 
in an ornamented steel coffer, and the lady came before Bayard 
and fell again upon her knees. He made her rise before he 
would listen to her. 

" My lord," she said, " I shall thank God all my life that it 
pleased Him, in the midst of the sacking of our town, to lead 
such a generous knight to our house. We are your prisoners ; 
the house with all it contains is yours by right of conquest. I 
have come to beg you to have pity on us, and to be satisfied 
with the little present that I have the honor to offer you." 

This was the courteous way of offering ransom, for of course 
Bayard could not with his soldiery have actually carried away 
the house and all there was. 

*' How much have you here 1 " he asked. 

" My lord, there are only twenty-five hundred ducats ; but if 
you are not satisfied, tell us how much you wish, and we will try 
to get it." 

Now, Bayard thought Httle of silver or gold. He replied, 
" If you were to offer me a hundred thousand ducats, I should 
not value them so much as all the kindness you have shown me." 

The lady again threw herself upon her knees, and said, " I 
shall think myself the most unhappy woman in the world if you 
refuse it." 

"As you wish it so much," he replied, "I accept it. But I 
pray you send your daughters here, that I may take leave of 
them." 

The young girls came and threw themselves on their knees, 
but he bade them rise. 

"My lord," said the older one, "you see before you two 
young girls who owe their lives and safety to you. We are 
very sorry not to be able to show our thanks otherwise than by 
praying to God for you all our lives." 

He said, " You know that soldiers are not loaded with jewels 
to present to young ladies. But your mother has just made me 
accept from her the twenty-five hundred ducats that you see 
there. I give you a thousand each ; and as to the remaining 



38 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



five hundred, I intend them to be distributed among the poor 
convents which have suffered most from the pillage." 

That was the spirit in which Bayard Hved and fought. 

The Pope offered to make him Captain-general of the Church. 
There was but one Church in all Western Europe then. 

Bayard replied, " I have but one Master in heaven, who is 
God ; and but one master upon earth, who is the King of 
France, and I will never serve any other." 

In this same spirit of courage, honor, and fidelity, Bayard 
died. When in his last battle the death-wound came, he kissed 
the cross-hilt of his sword because it was a cross. His com- 
rades desired to remove him. " No," he said, " I do not wish, 
in my last moments, to turn my back on the enemy for the first 
time in my Hfe." 

His followers were weeping beside him. The enemy was 
pressing forward. " Let me die," he said, " with my face to the 
foe. It is God's will to take me to Himself. He has kept me 
in this world long enough, and showed me more goodness and 
favor than I deserved. Leave me, lest you should be taken 
prisoners." 

The Spaniards approached and took him prisoner. 

" Would it were Heaven's will, Lord Bayard," said the marquis 
who led them, " that I might have given all the blood 1 could 
lose without dying, to have taken you prisoner in good health." 

The Constable of Bourbon, who had deserted king and 
country to serve with the Spanish, said, "Ah, Bayard, how 
much I pity you ! " 

The brave and faithful knight answered, " My lord, 1 thank 
you ; I don't pity myself I die like an honest man. I die 
serving my king. Yoii are the man to be pitied, for bearing 
arms against your prince, your country, and your oath 1 " Then 
he died. 

All through his life, manly, noble, and pure, despising rich 
men unless they were also good men, protecting helpless women, 
befriending orphans, faithful to every man, never afraid of any 
danger, loyal to his conscience and his God, Bayard lives in 
history to show the world what was and is the true Christian 
character. 



PART II. — DUTY TO SELF. 



I. — HEALTH. 

What ! know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which 
is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own ? — i Cor. 6 : 19. 

Behold the wretch who flings his life away, 
Soon swallow'd in disease's sad abyss ; 
While he whom toil has brac'd, or manly play, 
Has light as air ^ach limb, each thought as clear as day. 

— Thomson. 

We are going into the study of Duty, — one of the 
three great words we had. Duty is something that 
is due, that is, something that we owe. 

We have learned that conscience whispers to each 
one, " I ought," and that it does so because what we 
ought to do is good and right. (This paragraph may 
be given by questions which will get the answers 
from pupils.) 

Everything we ought to do is duty ; we owe some- 
where all we ought to do. 

The very first thing we learn in babyhood life is 
that we owe something to ourselves. We are so 
young that we do not know that we are learning it ; 
but our hunger and thirst teach us that we need food 
and drink, and that we owe something to ourselves. 

Every cry of a little baby seems to say, " Attend 
to me ; I need something." 

39 



40 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



There is another name given to a duty ; we some- 
times call it virtue. If one tells the truth when it 
gives him pain to tell the truth, we say that he acts 
virtuously. And we also say that he is a virtuous 
person. A good principle in us is virtue. A right 
thing which a good principle bids us do is virtuous 
conduct. 

Now, it is worth while to ask, where did we get 
that word, and what it means. It comes from a 
Latin word which means man, and the word virtue 
means that which helps to make a good and strong 
man or woman. Manliness or womanliness will ex- 
press what is meant. So that virtue is a true manly 
or womanly spirit ; and a true manly or womanly 
act is the exercise of virtue. 

I. We must study some of the duties we owe to 
ourselves ; those that will help us to be true men 
and true women. One of the first is the care of 
our health. 

In an English village, a venerable man spent his days in 
preaching the Gospel and doing other Christian works. When 
he first came to this village he found, every summer about the 
same time, that many of the people sickened and died. Of 
those who died, the greatest number were children. It went to 
his heart to see the grief which these deaths caused, — mothers 
crying for the children, and children for the mothers, who had 
died. At last God put the thought into his mind, that there was 
some one evil thing which brought the sickness and the deaths. 
And, looking into all things to find this out, he saw that in the 
hot months of summer the people had no water to drink except 
what lay foul and bad in the ditches by the roadside. He said 
to himself, " The people are dying for want of pure water." 
Now, over against that village there is a mountain, and in the 
sides of this mountain, far up, are springs and streams of the 



HEALTH. 



41 



purest water. The minister got workmen and went up to these 
streams. And across the bed of the largest streams he caused 
a strong wall to be built, and in this way made a deep lake 
behind. Then from this lake he caused pipes to be laid all the 
way to the streets of the village. And the villagers had whole- 
some water to drink. And they ceased to sicken and die as they 
had done. 

That was a gentle and Christian deed. He brought health to 
his people, and a happier life into their homes. 

Very few persons seem to know that healthy and 
holy are words that are cousins, if not indeed brother 
words. Health is being whole, or well ; it means, a 
person is not broken anywhere, or is not ill any- 
where. Now, that is the perfect natural condition, 
and our Heavenly Father would have us live as near 
to it as we can. 

When our body is in the perfectly natural state, we 
seldom think of any part of it. We have to make 
ourselves remember that we have eyes, or hands, or 
stomachs, if they are not in pain. But if any part 
of us gets sick, its sickness makes us think of it. It 
is not then a pleasant thought we have of it, but a 
very wretched thought. 

H. It becomes our duty to take care of our health, 
because we can only enjoy ourselves and work as we 
should when we are well. 

If a person is only a little sick, how weak he feels, 
and how he turns away from play, or study, or work ! 
A very sick person is a burden to himself and to 
others. It costs somebody trouble when we are sick 
enough to need nursing. 

There is much sickness that cannot be prevented, 
and if that kind comes to us we must bear it with a 
brave spirit. We arc not now talking of that. 



42 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



The sickness that may be prevented is nearly 
always the result of ignorance. Therefore we ought 
to learn all we can about our bodies and what will 
keep us in health. 

Many weakly persons, by finding what will make 
them sick, are able to take good care of themselves. 

III. Let us think of what that English clergyman 
did. He did what was to keep others well. Many 
wise men and women now are studying what are 
called sanitary laws. They are showing us how to 
look after drainage and plumbing in houses ; where 
to dig wells, and how to protect them. Hundreds of 
children die from diphtheria and scarlet-fever, and all 
classes of people suffer and die from serious diseases, 
because these sanitary laws are not followed. 

But children cannot learn these sanitary laws. 
Now what can they learn ? 

1. Foul air is poisonous. 

2. Getting wet in a cold rain, especially getting 
our feet wet, is dangerous, unless we hurry home to 
dry ourselves. 

3. We ought to have enough of play, but not too 
much. If we work without any play, we shall harm 
ourselves ; and if play makes us very tired, we may 
get sick. 

4. We ought to have enough of sleep, and then 
jump out of bed when our sleep is over. 

5. Unripe or decayed fruit is not fit to eat. Eat- 
ing or drinking too much of anything is bad for us. 

6. We should never cool off quickly when we are 
overheated. 

7. We should keep ourselves clean. 



HEALTH. 



43 



Let us gather these items and put them in another 
order, and then perhaps we may remember them 
more easily. We are to think : — 

1. Of the air we breathe. 

2. Of cleanliness. 

3. Of the weather and our clothing. 

4. Of our food and drink. 

5. Of walking or running too little or too much ; 
and of being overheated. 

6. Of study or work and of play. 

7. Of going to bed and of getting up at proper 
times. 

We sometimes hear of fast living. If we are 
going anywhere in a carriage, what is the result of 
fast driving } 

We get to our jotinieys ejid the more qtiickly. 

That is what comes of fast living. Heedless per- 
sons come to the grave, the end of their journey on 
the earth, very soon. Fast living is what some, with- 
out any sense of duty, call having a good time." 
It is eating and drinking, staying up late at night, 
and in all kinds of pleasure forgetting what life is 
and for what it is meant. 

IV. Now let us turn for a little while to another 
thought. Can you think of anything that may make 
it our duty to risk our health } 
Yes : some duty to otJm's. 

Then it becomes a brave and noble thing to risk 
our health and even our life. In a yellow-fever 
scourge that visited Memphis, a clergyman wrote this 
account of such a case : ^ — 



44 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



When the Tobin family, on Bradford Street, were seized 
with the fever, there was no provision for hired nurses, since no 
one looked for the fever so early in the season. Opposite to 
this family, on the same street, lived a young girl, about seven- 
teen years old, named Evelyn Wildrick, her father and little 
brother Freddy being the only other members of the household. 
Evelyn had not had the fever, but she went to her neighbors in 
distress, and remained with them from the beginning to the fatal 
ending. Immediately after the last of the Tobins was buried, 
the infection spread to the family of Godsey, living next door 
to the Wildricks. Without having rested, Evelyn began duty 
there, and nursed these young ladies with a skill far beyond her 
years. It was there, last Sunday morning, I first saw this dear 
child. I sent her relief, and begged her to go to rest. Return- 
ing in the afternoon, I found the tireless girl still on duty, and 
sharing the labor with the relief nurse. The same night the fatal 
fever laid her prostrate. Last night, in her father's room, he 
begged me to tell him how his dear child was. I could say no 
more than that she is resting, — a truer word than he thought I 
meant, but to-night they both are resting in Elmwood, where, 
side by side, we laid the two to-day. 

Such a noble sacrifice shows us what an enemy- 
disease is, and how highly we should esteem health. 

V. It is very easy to see what is the reward of 
taking good care of ourselves, and what is the pun- 
ishment of ignorance or of carelessness. 

What is the reward of carefulness } 

Health preserved. 

Yes, with all the blessings that come from it. 
What the punishment of ignorance or of careless- 
ness } 

Sickness, and it may be an early death. 

Our great Washington was only in his sixty-seventh 
year when he died. His sickness was from exposure 
to rain and snow in riding over his farm, and then 



HEALTH. 



45 



neglecting to take care of himself on reaching 
home. 

If we should not be killed by a sickness, we may 
be made weakly for life. Weakness cripples us. 
Look at a man who has lost the use of a leg. How 
he limps on his crutch, how slow his walk, and how 
soon he is tired ! Suppose he had to get out of a 
house on fire ! All weakness cripples us somewhere ; 
it may cripple our throat, or our eyes, or our ability 
to take food. Rich men have tried to buy health 
after losing it, and no physician could restore it. 

Then here is our body given to us by our Heavenly 
Father, and it is called the temple of the Holy 
Ghost. We should take care of it that we may live 
on the earth as long as we can and be as strong as 
we can. 

Some people of the olden time had such regard for 
health, that it was a part of their religion to keep 
well. They had religious feasts and games which 
were to preserve health. They had a goddess of 
health, and called her Hygeia. She was formed like 
a beautiful young woman, with a snake coiled around 
her left arm, and the snake was drinking from a cup 
held in her right hand. The serpent was with these 
people a symbol of health, — it was strong, and quick, 
and watchful. 

These people were idolaters, but they were not 
wrong in the idea that care for our health is a re- 
ligious duty. The Jews had religious laws to pre- 
serve health. 

Jesus Christ showed how highly He regarded 
health, in curing sick and crippled people. He was 



46 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



the perfect Man, and we never hear that He was 
sick at any time. 

Some one tells a story called The Silly Frog, and 
we may learn from it the importance of taking care 
of ourselves, both in body and soul. 

In the field back of my house and up the hill are two mce 
springs. From one I draw water to my house through pipes, 
while the water from the other goes to my barn and my neigh- 
bor's house. The water runs very swiftly, because it is running 
down hill. It is far easier to run down hill than it is to run up. 

The pipe enters this spring, not at the top of the water, nor 
at the bottom, either. If it were at the top, the scum would get 
into the pipe, and a floating bug now and then ; if it were at the 
bottom, dregs and sediment would get in ; so the pipe goes in 
about six inches below the top of the water. 

When we are drawing water at the barn for the horses, and 
my neighbor draws water at the same time for her washing-day, 
the pipe sucks at a great rate; but it draws in nothing but pure 
water if all floating things keep at the top and heavy things lie 
still at the bottom. Now for my story. 

One morning there was a very gay young frog, about as big 
as half my thumb — too big for a tadpole, too small for a wise 
frog. He could go just where he pleased. He did not have 
to float with the bugs, for he knew how to dive ; he did not 
have to stay at the bottom with the dregs, for he knew how to 
swim ; so he kicked out his litde hind legs and swam all around 
the spring — doing very much what he pleased. 

One day he saw the little round black hole of the pipe where 
the water was running in quite freely. He w^ondered where it 
led to. He put his nose in and felt the water pull, and was a 
little scared and backed out. But it was such a funny feeling to 
be sucked that way ; it felt kind of good round his nose, and 
he swam up and looked in again. He went in as much as half 
an inch, and then the water got behind him, and he was drawn 
all in. " Here goes," said he. " I shall see what I shall see ; " 
and along he went with the water till he came to where the pipe 



HEALTH. 



47 



makes a bend for my barn — a sharp bend, straight up. As the 
water was quiet there, he gave a little kick and got up into a 
still dark place, close by the barrel where the horses drink. 
" Well," said he, " it's a snug place here, but rather lonely and 
dark." 

Now and then he thought of the spring and the light, and the 
splendid room he used to have to swim in, and he tried to swim 
back against the stream. But the water was on him, or running 
by him swiftly, and he had no room to kick in the pipe ; so 
every time he started to go back to the spring he would work for 
a few minutes, and then get tired and shp back into the dark 
place by the barrel. 

By and by he grew contented there. The water brought 
him enough to eat. He shut his eyes and grew stupid, stopped 
exercising and got fat ; and as he had no room to grow very 
big in the pipe, he had to grow all long and no broad. But he 
grew as big as he could, till at last he stopped up the pipe. 

Then I had to go out to see what was the matter, for the 
horses had nothing to drink. I jerked away the barrel, pulled 
out the little plug, and put a ramrod down, felt a springy, 
leathery something, and pushing, down it went, and out gushed 
the water. " What was that ? " I thought. So I pulled out the 
big plug and put down an iron ramrod, and churned it two or 
three times, and then let the water run, and out came a great, 
long, red and white and bleeding frog. 

I could not put him together again. Anything that gets 
sucked into the pipe and grows up in those dark places has to 
come out dead and all in pieces. I wondered how such a big 
frog could ever have got in so small a pipe. Then a wise lady 
in my house told me, — 

" Why, he went in when he was little and foolish, and grew 
up in there." 

I cannot get that poor frog out of my mind ; he was so like 
some young folks that I have seen. They stood and looked 
into a bar-room, or someway put their foolish noses into a dark 
hole that felt funny, and led they did not know where. Pretty 
soon, in they went. When they wanted to get back they could 
not ; and they grew larger and more wicked, and all out of 



48 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



shape, in that dark place. If they came out at last, they are 
all jammed up, knocked to pieces, sick, or dying, or dead. 
When I see them in their coffins, I hear folks ask, — 

" How came he to throw himself away so ? " " What made 
him drink himself to death ? " " How happened she to go off 
to infamy ? " " How came he to be a gambler ? " 

Then I make answer as the wise lady told me about the 
frog, — 

" They went in when they were little and foolish, and grew 
up there." A bad habit hugs a man tighter, and jams him out of 
shape worse, than my pipes did that poor frog. 



CLEANLINESS. 



49 



II. — CLEANLINESS. 

Jacob said unto his household, and to all that were with him, Put away the 
strange gods that are among you, and be clean, and change your garments. — 
Gen. 35 : 2. 

Let thy mind's sweetness have its operation 
Upon thy body, clothes, and habitation. 

— George Herbert. 

Cleanliness, we have seen, is one of the means 
of healthfulness. But if it were not, for its own 
sweet sake it would deserve our study. 

I. It means much more than being without dust 
or mud on us ; it is having a clean skin and clean 
clothing next to our bodies, having clean habits, and 
also clean homes. 

A painter at his work may have all colors of paint 
on his hands and overclothing, and at the same time 
be truly clean. The smith at his forge, with black 
coal-dust and smoke in his hair and beard, and on 
his arms and face, may be cleaner than some finely 
dressed persons who go by his shop. Workingmen 
may be so clean that it will take them but a very 
little time to get rid of the outside dust or the stains 
of work. 

II. Let us try to remember three reasons why we 
should try to be clean. 

1. Our own self-respect and pleasure call for it. 

2. Cleanliness is one of the means by which we 
keep in health. 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



3. We are not pleasant company for clean persons 
unless we are clean. 

A pastor was on a visit to a family when a boy of the family 
came in from play with filthy hands. He had never been care- 
ful to keep himself clean. Without thought he put forth his 
hand to the pastor. He was so accustomed to dirty hands that 
he did not feel them to be so. The pastor could not help being 
disgusted at the hand presented to him, and he could not take 
it. The mother cried out, " Do not offer the minister such a 
hand." Then the boy looked at his hand. Mark you, he did 
not feel its condition. He had to look at it to find what was 
the matter with it. Then he looked at the left hand, although 
he knew that was not the hand to give a friend. He was 
ashamed. He began a vigorous rubbing of his hands together, 
as if that would clean them. The pastor, who was full of humor, 
stood laughing at the experiment; he knew how the boy was 
grinding the dirt into his skin. When the rubbing was over, 
the poor fellow put forth his brown right hand again, but the 
pastor could not take it. 

" No," said the pastor, " I will venture to put my hand on 
your head ; that is ministerial. And I will tell you a story of 
good Isaac T. Hopper, a Friend, who hated dirt. He used to 
walk these streets, trying to do good wherever he could. He 
met many unclean boys and girls. He would go up to one and 
say, ' My little friend, do you know what chemistry is 1 ' Of 
course the boy or girl did not know, any more than you do. 
'Ah ! ' he would go on to say, ' then you do not know the fun of 
making a chemical experiment.' The boy or girl looked at him 
now, just as you are looking at me. 

" ' What a pity ! — what a pity ! ' Friend Hopper would 
exclaim. ' Don't know the fun — the splendid fun — of making 
a chemical experiment. Well, I will tell you how it is done. Go 
home and ask your mother to lend you a piece of soap ; then put 
some water on it, and rub — and rub — and rub — between your 
hands a long time. You know it will make a lather. It will be 
a black lather at first, but in a httle while it will turn white — 
very white — isn't that curious ? But next take it all off your 



CLEANLINESS. 



51 



hands with water. You can do the same thing with your 
face.' 

"By this time Mr. Hopper's boy or girl understood him, and 
perhaps would say, ' Oh, you're only telling me how to wash 
myself.' 

" And now," the pastor said to this little fellow, " do you go 
through the fun of Friend Hopper's chemical experiment, and 
then, whether you offer me your right or your left hand, I will 
take either." 

III. To preserve cleanliness we must bathe and 
change our underclothing frequently, our mouth and 
teeth must be kept sweet and pure, our hair must be 
well brushed, and our nails must be kept clean. Just 
as soon as we are through our work or play we ought 
to make ourselves clean and tidy. 

Every one who is in the habit of keeping clean 
feels such misery in uncleanliness, that being clean 
fully rewards him for any pains to keep so. Sad to 
say is it, that one who is careless about any of the 
things we must do to be clean, gets used to an 
unclean condition and does not feel it. But such a 
person will surely be shunned by all clean people. 

IV. There is a religious rite which shows the 
beauty and virtue of cleanliness. It is baptism. 
What is used in baptism } 

PtLve water. 

Pure water is used because it is an emblem of 
cleanliness. In using it our holy religion reminds us 
that cleanliness is a very beautiful virtue. It shows 
us that religion looks for a clean heart just as surely 
as pure water will make our body clean. 

There is a likeness between the highest goodness 
of life and cleanliness. Keeping our person clean 



52 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



does for our body what goodness does for our soul. 
Keeping a home clean is to make it something like 
unto heaven. 

The likeness between goodness and keeping our- 
selves clean, is so close that a gentleman referred to it 
in giving a very fine answer to a very foolish question. 
Some one asked him, "What is the use of being good 
if no one can know that you are really good V He 
replied that he would wish to be good for the same 
reason that he wished to be clean, — to know it him- 
self. 

The prophet Isaiah, in bidding the Jews to turn 
away from their sins, said, in poetic words, Wash 
you, make you clean." 

The text that we have had to-day is from the holy 
story of Jacob when he was going to build an altar 
to God. On starting for such a solemn service he 
wished all his family and servants to wash themselves 
and to put on clean garments, as well as to put away 
idols. 

That is like unto our custom of getting ready for 
church by making ourselves clean. But we ought to 
remember that we are always in the presence of our 
Heavenly Father, and that if we wish to be pleasing 
in His sight we should be clean. 

A great and good man, John Wesley, said, " Clean- 
liness is next to godliness." That saying has been 
frequently repeated, and Mr. Wesley came near the 
truth. He would have hit the truth exactly if he 
had said that cleanliness is a part of godliness. 

The Jewish religion, and some other religions 
which you may learn about when you become older. 



CLEANLINESS. 



53 



insist on cleanliness, and give rules for it. Why 
does not the Christian religion give rules for it ? 
For two reasons. One is, that when our Lord Jesus 
was here, religious people had all kinds of wash- 
ings," and paid such attention to them that they lost 
a true sense of the purity of heart which the wash- 
ings " were to teach. The other is, that the Christian 
rehgion prefers to put principles in us, from which 
we shall make rules for ourselves, rather than to 
appoint minute regulations for us. 

Let us remember the beautiful poetic thought of 
the Bible, — a thought that belongs to both Jews and 
Christians ; an innocent person is said to be one 
who has " clean hands." If a man had not oppressed 
the widow and the fatherless, and if all his gains 
had come to him from doing only what was honest 
and right, he was spoken of as a man having clean 
hands. And the pure heart is sometimes called the 
" clean heart." 

A lad was taken by his father to visit a large city. They 
were walking along a thronged street, and met a well-dressed 
man who recognized the father, and hailed him cordially as an 
old friend. The boy noticed that his father was very polite, but 
that he did not respond in warm, friendly words to the man's 
greeting. He did not say, " Here is my little son," as might be 
expected in meeting an old acquaintance. Indeed, the father 
soon cut short the interview, and, with a civil bow, passed on 
with his son. " Papa, you treated that one very cheaply., I 
should say," was the lad's remark. The father was silent. The 
boy continued, " He offered you his hand, but you did not seem 
to see it." His father now answered, " I hardly knew how to 
treat him. In our old home he has become a rich man by lend- 
ing money, not to help poor people, but to ruin them ; and 



54 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



among his earliest victims were a widow and her two daughters, 
and they trusted him as a friend. I did not wish to see his 
hand, certain!}' did not wish to take it ; it is not a clean hand." 

Can you think of any words which are often used 
in the same sense as the word clean ? 
Ptire ; spotless. 

These words show the great virtue in cleanliness. 

Keeping one thing clean will always lead us to be 
careful in keeping other things so. Cleanliness of 
body will lead to the desire to have home always 
clean. 

V. (The following paragraph is for children old 
enough to understand it.) Let us return to the 
teaching of cleanliness as related to health. You 
know how we perspire when we are overheated. 
Now, millions of small pores in our skin are always 
trying to throw out some of the wasted and dead 
material of our bodies. Unless this is thrown out, 
it will poison our blood. If we keep our skin clean, 
we help this natural process. When we do not keep 
our skin clean, the lungs have to throw off much of 
this impurity that ought to go through the skin. 
We might thus poison our lungs, and perhaps would 
have an unpleasant breath. 

Now let us have a story of a clean child ; an un- 
clean one is too unpleasant to think about. 

A fairy, named Good Sense, had taken under her care a little 
girl named Junie. Tlie fairy of course could not be seen, but 
she would whisper to the child warnings and lessons. 

Once this little girl was taken by her mother on a v^sit, and 
they had to ride in a city car which was almost full of passen- 
gers. Very soon Junie noticed that a girl who sat next to her 



CLEANLINESS. 



55 



was quite untidy — there, we have to think about an unclean 
child, after all ! This neighbor in the car had unclean hands, and 
her clothes were not clean. Cleanliness was one of the things 
of which the fairy had made Junie very particular. So now Junie 
jumped from her seat and stood on the other side of her mother, 
preferring to stand rather than to have a seat by that poor 
untidy girl. The fairy whispered, " You do not respect that 
girl, you cannot sit beside her, and you would not wish to take 
her hand. But you ought to pity her in her low, mean, and un- 
pleasant state. And remember that if you are ever unclean, 
this is the way all clean persons will shun you." 

One day Junie was playing in the garden, making believe that 
her doll was a queen among the flowers, when the bell rang for 
dinner. The wash-bowl was up-stairs in her room, all ready for 
her use ; but as the child was a httle tired, she said to herself, 
" My hands are clean enough ; I will just rub them off on dolly's 
skirts, which must then go into the wash." But the fairy whis- 
pered, ' ■ Fie, fie, my child, do not eat with your hands unwashed ; 
what a happier little girl you will be, and how much better your 
food will taste, if you run up-stairs and make yourself clean." 

You see how very attentive to cleanliness the fairy had made 
this little girl. There came, hov/ever, an occasion when the 
fairy had to use her wits. A company of girls were taken one 
warm day into the woods, by the teacher of a class to which 
Junie belonged. Junie went on the excursion dressed very 
neatly, and she had on long thread mitts to keep her hands clean 
during play. Sometimes the romping was behind the teacher's 
back, for she could not be looking every way at once. Junie and 
some other girls were running down a hill, and our little friend 
stumbled on a rough piece of ground. Down she went, her 
hands sliding along the earth. Her dress was soiled and torn, 
and her mitts being quite destroyed, did not save her hands 
from bruises which hurt her, nor from the rubbing of earth into 
their palms. What a sight she was when she got up ; and how 
her hands pained her ! She did not cry ; she was too brave for 
that. But she thought that the day was spoiled for her. She 
could not get a clean frock out here in the woods. Well, she 
could put up with that. But her hands, what could she do for 



56 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



them ? And then she was hungry, and knew the luncheon would 
soon be ready. The pain had only taken away her sense of 
hunger for a few moments. She knew that she could not eat 
unless she could wash her hands. It is a pity that her fairy 
did not whisper a suggestion to go to her teacher for help. Junie 
would then soon have been made almost all right. The teacher 
had certainly arranged for the girls to wash their hands before 
eating. Indeed, I think the fairy was about to whisper the sug- 
gestion which was the right thing to do, but Junie stopped her 
with the thought that it was better not to give Miss Smith any 
trouble about this little accident. 

" What shall I do, girls, to get my hands clean ? " our little 
heroine asked. 

" We know where the spring is," said one ; " right down there 
at the foot of the hill." Down they went to the spring. There 
was the clear pure water; but to dip soiled hands into that 
beautiful spring would have been a very wrong thing. The 
stream that ran off from the spring went slowly through a deep 
marsh, into which you might have sunk above your ankles. 
Junie thought that she was as badly off as if there were no water 
near. 

" I'll not be able to eat anything all day," said she. 

" Why not ? " asked one of the girls. 

" These dirty hands," she answered. 

" You don't eat with your hands," replied the girl. 

" Oh, yes, you do," said Junie ; " you begin with your hands." 

"Well," said one of the girls, who was always satisfied with 
half doing anything that was hard, "just rub your hands with 
some leaves from a tree." 

" That," said Junie, " would be like the old man who jumped 
into a bramble bush and scratched out both his eyes, and then 
jumped into the bramble bush a second time to scratch them in 
again ; my hands would be all covered with a green stain." 

Here her fairy whispered to her, "Just get one of the girls 
to fetch a drinking-mug, and then the clean water from the 
spring can be poured on your hands, and you can dry them in 
the air and the sunshine." 

This was done, and in a short time Junie stood before Miss 



CLEANLINESS. 



57 



Smith to have her tattered frock pinned together, with her hands 
as clean and pure as ever. 

There was once a little dog who was ashamed of himself for 
doing an uncleanly action. He was a pet house-dog named Fido, 
who had been taught to wipe his paws on the door-mat when- 
ever he came home from his play and run on the streets. One 
day he was sent out for his exercise in the open air, and, as he 
was running and barking near the door of his home, a very large 
dog sprang upon him and rolled him over in the dust. Fido's 
bark changed to a whine of fear, and as the door was opened 
in he ran without once thinking of the mat. There were the 
marks of his dusty paws all along the hall, and to make things 
worse he shook the dust out of his coat. " O Fido, Fido ! — 
naughty Fido ! " exclaimed his mistress ; and taking him in hand 
she pointed out to him his paw-marks. She said that he looked 
as guilty as any child could have appeared ; that he never wagged 
his tail until the door was opened and he had looked for the 
big dog, and finding him gone had wiped his paws on the mat. 



58 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Ill — TEMPERANCE. 

Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging ; and whosoever is deceived 
thereby is not wise. — Prov. 20 : i. 

Health consists with temperance alone ; 
And peace, O virtue! peace is all thy own. 

— Pope. 

Temperance is a large subject for a lesson. It is 
very necessary for us to learn a true lesson about it 
when we are young. Alas ! it is too late to learn it 
with much hope of good after one grows up and 
becomes a victim to intemperance. Every drunkard 
learns the lesson better than words can teach it ; but 
he may not have virtue, manliness, enough to heed 
the lesson. 

I. When we study the word temperance^ we find 
that it means moderation in the use of anything that 
is good for us. If we are fond of anything, one of 
the hardest duties is to be moderate in using it. 
When we are not moderate, we are yielding to 
intemperance. 

Temperance, then, is moderation ; and intemper- 
ance is using or enjoying anything to excess. 

Children are tempted to intemperance in many 
things ; for instance, in playing, and in eating too 
much — especially such things as cakes, candy, and 
ice-cream. 

Look at what comes from intemperance at play. 
Play is intended to make children strong, but in- 



TEMPERANCE. 



59 



temperance in playing will make them weak. Play 
is intended to bring us to study or work with fresh 
vigor, but playing without measure leads to the 
neglect of study and work. 

Look at what comes from intemperance in eating. 
It is degrading to be greedy gluttons. It makes us 
beastly, that is, beast-like. We have only to think 
of a hog and how he gorges his food, to know how 
degrading it is to be greedy for food and intemperate 
in eating. If we eat too much of what children call 
"good things," such as sweetmeats, it will destroy 
our appetite for more wholesome food. And any 
overfeeding will injure our health. 

Here is a story of an intemperate boy, by Mrs. 
M. F. Butts : — 

Once there was a little boy who wanted to have good times 
every day. He didn't like to study, and he didn't like to work. 
When he woke in the morning his first thought was about a 
holiday. His head was full of plans for skating, and coasting, 
and sleighing in winter, and for fishing, and tramping, and 
camping in summer. Besides, he was a great spendthrift. A 
silver quarter could no more stay in his pocket than a live coal, 
his grandfather said ; and as for pennies and five-cent pieces, 
they seemed determined to get into the hands of the grocer, or 
the confectioner, or the toy merchant, as soon as possible. 

" Have a good time to-day, and let the future take care of 
itself," was this careless boy's motto. 

One day his rich uncle came to see him, and gave him ten 
dollars. 

" Now we will see what you will do with it, my little man," 
said the old gentleman. " Ten-dollar bills don't grow on every 
bush in these days." 

Oh, how rich Harry felt ! Harry Arnold was his name. In 
the first place, he was not satisfied till he had shown the money 
to all " the boys." 



6o 



THE RIGHT^ROAD. 



" There are very many good times in that ten dollars," 
suggested Frank Main. " What a pile of bananas it would buy, 
eh ? and a whole pond of ice-cream ; and a pile of oranges 'most 
as high as Bunker Hill Monument" 

This sort of talk made Harry's mouth water. 

"And rivers of lemonade," added Frank, as he saw Harry's 
growing excitement. 

" Let's get some lemons now, and go to your house and 
make a jolly pitcher of lemonade," said Harry, slapping his 
hand on his pocket. 

" All right," said Frank ; " come along, boys," signalHng to 
three or four urchins. 

So off they started for the grocer's, and bought a dozen 
lemons. By the time the lemonade was made and drunk, Harry 
concluded that he was hungry. By giving all of the small 
boys ten cents apiece he managed to get rid of them, and then 
he proposed to Frank that they should go to the beach and get 
some clams. " My mother wishes me to go to the seashore as 
often as I can," he said. 

They started in high glee. The silver that came by way of 
change for the ten-dollar bill was wonderfully convenient. It 
paid car-fares, it bought candy and peanuts, and once on the 
beach it bought clams till the boys couldn't eat another one. 
Then there was some change left, and it rattled and rolled about 
so uncomfortably that Harry bought ice-cream and cake, and 
finished with half a dozen pop-corn balls. That night when our 
boy got home he didn't count his money, he was too sleepy. 

He threw off his clothes, boy fashion, and was dreaming 
before a girl would have been half ready. And this is what he 
dreamed : — 

He thought he was in what he called a balloon made of 
chocolate creams, with the cream inside. It was a very elegant 
affair, and looked as if it were ceiled and finished with white 
satin. This strange dweUing was suspended from a star by a 
cord of red and white cinnamon candy. Now, if there was any- 
thing that Harry liked, it was chocolate creams and cinnamon 
candy. Besides, in his dream he was hungry and thirsty. He 
hesitated at first to bite into his beautiful room ; but he really 



TEMPERANCE. 



6l 



couldn't let it alone, it was so very tempting. So he nibbled 
and nibbled ; and the more he ate, the more he wanted. And 
by and by there were great holes in his house, so that when 
there came presently a storm of wind and rain, he was in 
danger of being drowned. But this greedy boy was not satis- 
fied with eating up his pretty house. He longed to try the cord 
of cinnamon candy. He knew it was dangerous to tamper with 
it, but he thought about it till at last he made up his mind that 
he would bite off one little corner. It was dehciously spicy. 
He must have a little more, and a little more, till all at once he 
saw that the remnants of his balloon hung by one slender 
strand. Now he began to be frightened. What if he should 
fall ! There was nothing around him but air. The earth was so 
far away that he could not even see the gilt arrow on the top of 
the church steeple near his father's house. A puff of air stirred 
his balloon, and the strand began to crack ! Oh, how terrified 
he was ! In an instant it snapped short off, and down plunged 
Harry into the frightful space. He gave a piercing shriek, and 
awoke. 

His mother came running to his bedside, and his old grand- 
father called out in a trembling voice to know what was the 
matter. 

Harry was nervous the rest of that night. The next morning 
when he told his dream, his uncle asked him what he had been 
eating, and his mother inquired after the ten dollars. Then 
Harry confessed to his extravagance and greediness. 

" Ah, my boy," said his grandfather, " your dream is a 
prophecy. The boy or man who cannot deny himself ruins all 
his chances of happy living, and breaks by self-indulgence the 
cord that Hnks him to the stars." 

We may be intemperate in taking rest ; then it 
becomes indolence. That is also to become beast- 
like ; we get to be like the sloth. 

Here, then, we have had three things in enjoying 
which we fall into intemperance quite easily while 
we are children ; and we may get the habits of lower 
animals in each one of them. 



62 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



What was the first one ? 
Eating. 

Then we are like unto the greedy pigs. 

What was the second ? 

Playing. 

Then we are like unto the foolish little lambs who 
think that life is for nothing else but play. 
What was the third ? 
Resting. 

Then we get lazy like the sloth. 

There is another word that belongs to the great 
subject of temperance, that we must study. What 
have we learned is the meaning of temperance } 

Moderation. 

The other word is a long and double word ; it is 
total-abstinence. It means doing altogether without 
some particular thing, — never using it. 

Let us see how the rule of total-abstinence grows 
out of the rule of temperance. The rule of temper- 
ance is against too much of anything, because too 
much will hurt us ; the rule of total-abstinence is 
entirely against an object because anything of it will 
do us harm. There are some things of which the 
least quantity will injure us. So that we come to 
this rule : if we do not wish to be harmed, we must 
not indulge too much in things that are good for 
us, and we must abstain from things that are bad 
for us. We should not take a particle or drop of 
poison. 

Many grown-up persons indulge in things which 
do not seem to be harmful to them, but things which 
are bad for children, — such as coffee and tea. 



TEMPERANCE. 



63 



The harm that tobacco does children who use it in 
any way is very serious. It checks their growth, 
and it weakens their brains and nervous systems. 
Tobacco is a poison which only a strong nervous 
system in a full-grown person can become accus- 
tomed to, and even a strong man may break down 
under its use. 

III. We must learn something of the awful cause 
which brings the lowest wretchedness and the most 
sorrow that the world knows. What is that } 

Intoxicating dri7ik. 

When you look at a drunken man, there are sad 
conditions of body, and mind, and spirit, that you 
ought to understand as far as you may. When he 
can talk but his tongue is thick, and when he can 
walk but cannot walk straight, he is partly para- 
lyzed. When he is stupid in sleep, he is in a state of 
brain-sickness. The brain-sickness may take another 
dreadful form. If he becomes frightened or angry, 
it may make him a madman. In the craze of fright 
he is likely to kill himself. In the craze of anger he 
is disposed to abuse and even murder those whom he 
loves. 

People laugh at a drunken man. That is very 
thoughtless. The man may be very near to the 
taking of his own life, or the life of some one whom 
he dearly loves. Delirium tremens is the frightful 
form of disease in which many commit self-murder 
We turn away from the thought of it with horror. 

Here is an account of the killing of a little boy by 
his father, that is shocking ; and yet shocking occur- 
rences must ofttimes be told : — 



64 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



A respectable man came home drunk for the first time, and 
was met at the door by his little son, who clapped his hands at 
sight of his father, crying out, " Papa has come home ! " 

The father, too drunk to know what he was doing, seized the 
child, swung around, staggered, and fell down the stairs. 

He sobered somewhat after a while, and said, " What is the 
matter ? " 

When told that his boy was hurt, he went up to enter the 
room into which the child had been taken. Some one tried to 
keep him out. " Stand aside ! " he shouted. " I will see my 
boy." 

He was allowed to go in, and there, confronting him, was the 
corpse of his darhng, with an ugly gash on his head where the 
stone steps had inflicted an awful wound. 

Whether it was a craze of anger in which he caught up his 
son, or only inability to steady himself with the child, which 
caused the fatal result, no one could say. The man himself 
could not tell. 

The condition of a drunkard's soul is most deplor- 
able. The guilt of doing wrong has come into his 
character, and the virtue of moral strength is gone. 

Our alms-houses are crowded with those who have 
become poor through drink ; our lunatic asylums 
crowded with those who have become crazy by drink ; 
our prisons crowded with those who have become 
criminals through drink. 

Let us make a further study of the condition of 
the drunkard. When one comes out of the state of 
drunkenness, there is awful lowness of spirit in which 
there is the craving for more drink sometimes ; and 
at other times, sick of drink for a while, this low con- 
dition may lead one to kill himself. 

If one repeats the drunken state, there comes a 
disease of his nerves which demands more and 



TEMPERANCE. 



65 



more drink. All this time the poor wretch may be 
fighting against his depraved appetite for drink. But 
he has become a slave. The man is conquered by a 
devil that has now taken possession of him. It is 
some monstrous thing in him that calls for drink, 
drmk, DRINK ! When we read of men possessed of 
devils who drove the poor men and made them tear 
themselves, we may have some idea of the drink- 
disease. 

IV. In almost one word we may learn the lesson 
that is taught by temperance. That word is self- 
denial. Self-denial means that we should say "No" 
to every desire for too much of a good thing, and 
No " to every temptation to use anything that is bad. 

The Spartans who made the mistake of teaching 
boys to steal and lie so that they would grow up to 
be cunning in war, made also the mistake of enticing 
their slaves to get drunk, in order to warn children 
against the folly and the shame of drunkenness. The 
children were shown the foolish behavior or the 
maddened condition of the drunken slaves. It was 
cruelty to the poor slaves. 

Here is a story given by the Rev. Dr. Richard 
Newton in a sermon on The Amethyst. The name of 
that jewel means not to intoxicate. It shows how a 
strong-minded sailor could say " No." 

Seven sailors of a ship's watch included only one who would 
not take grog. The ship was bound to Liverpool. The six 
drinking-men agreed that when they reached port they would 
invite " Cold-water Jack," as they called him, to a tavern and 
make him drink for once at least. Arriving at Liverpool, they 
engaged supper at a tavern and invited Jack to go with them. 
He went. The supper passed off pleasantly. Then they ordered 



66 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



in liquor, and began to drink, inviting Jack to take some. He 
declined one after another. Then they showed anger, and threat- 
ened to give him a frightful beating if he continued to refuse 
their invitation. 

" Shipmates," said he, " I'm in your power. What can one 
fellow do against six 1 But before you begin to do what you 
have threatened, hear what I have to say." 

They agreed, and Jack went on to give this explanation of his 
conduct ; — 

" My father was a drunkard. I remember, when I was a 
child, how he used to beat and abuse my mother, who was 
always kind and loving to us. One day in winter my mother 
sent me away on some business which kept me from home till 
late at night. On my return, as I came near the house, I saw 
something lying on the snow, which looked like the figure of a 
man. I came nearer and looked carefully at it, in the light of 
the moon, and you can imagine, perhaps, how I felt when I found 
it to be the frozen body of my dead father. I was overcome 
with horror. I hastened home and told the dreadful tidings to 
my poor heart-broken mother. Our kind neighbors came in. 
They carried my father's body home. Preparations were made 
for the funeral. On the day of the funeral, my mother took me 
and the other children into the room where the corpse was, to 
look upon our father's face for the last time. As we stood there, 
weeping round that open cofSn, she made us each solemnly 
promise that as long as we lived we never would learn to drink 
intoxicating liquor. My mother is dead and gone to heaven. 
I have always looked on the promise I made then as a sacred 
thing. I have sailed round the world, but in storm or in calm, 
in winter or in summer, I have never yet broken it. Boys, 
would you have me drink, and break my promise to my dear 
dead mother now ? " 

" No, no, no ! " was uttered by every voice ; and the tears 
which flowed down their weather-beaten faces showed how much 
they felt what they said. 



TRUTHFULNESS. 



67 



IV. — TRUTHFULNESS. 

Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? 

Who shall dwell in thy holy hill? 

He that walketh uprightly, 

And worketh righteousness, 

And speaketh the truth in his heart ; 

He that backbiteth not with his tongue. 

-P^. 15:1-3. 

This above all — to thine own self be true. 
And it must follow, as the night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man. 

— Shakspeare. 

We are about to study, among the duties to our- 
selves, truthfulness. Why should we not put off this 
lesson until we come to learn about our duties to 
others Because it is first due to ourselves that we 
be truthful. The very first thing to do in the matter 
of truthfulness is to thmk truly. Be true ! that is 
our duty to self ; our soul would become a low and 
mean soul if we were wilhng to be false. 

The text does not give the complete answer to the 
questions with which it begins ; you would have to 
read the whole Psalm to get the full answer. This 
is what we must notice in that part of it we have 
read : speaking the truth in one's own heart comes 
before no backbiting with our tongue. 

I. What is truthfulness t It is meaning that our 
thoughts, words, and deeds shall agree with facts. 
It is being without intention to deceive. 

Now we know what an untruthful word is. We 



68 



THE RIGHT ROAD, 



ought to know as well what is an untruthful thought, 
and what is an untruthful act. 

An untruthful thought is trying to think in the 
wrong way, trying to believe something that we are 
afraid is not true. 

A little girl's mother told the child to come home immediately 
after school. On the way home a playmate asked the child to 
stop at her home for a Httle while. Our little girl, who had been 
bidden to go directly home, wished to go into her friend's house 
and have a talk with her; but she hesitated, and gave as her 
reason the command of her mother. " Oh, she didn't mean that 
you shouldn't stop with me a little while," said the tempter ; 
" she only meant that you were not to loiter on the street." 
Now, the tempted child was afraid that her mother did mean 
just what the command expressed, but she wished to think her 
friend's explanation to be the right meaning. That moment she 
became untrue in her mind, in her thought. She persuaded her 
own mind to think something to be true which she had reason 
to fear was not true. She went in for a little while. The little 
while grew into a great while. She was a disobedient girl ; and 
she frightened her poor mother, who was made wretched by the 
fear that an accident had happened to the child. 

There is very great danger to our soul in thinking 
untruly. We may come to believe in lies whenever 
we wish to do so, and to live trusting in lies, " The 
fool hath said in his heart. There is no God." He 
is one who has come to live trusting in a lie ; he is 
afraid there may be a God, but he wishes to live 
wickedly as if there was none, and brings himself to 
think as he wishes. 

An untruthful act or deed is to pretend that we 
are doing something that we are not doing. To put 
a story-book over a lesson-book, and so make believe 
that we are studying, is an untruthful act. 



TRUTHFULNESS. 



69 



Here is an Arabian story which shows us untruth 
in word and act combined. 

In the tribe of Neggdeh there was a horse whose fame was 
spread far and near ; and a Bedouin of another tribe, by name 
Daher, desired extremely to possess it. Having offered in vain 
for it his camels and his whole wealth, he hit at length upon the 
following device, by which he hoped to gain the object of his 
desire. He resolved to stain his face with the juice of an herb, 
to clothe himself in rags, to tie his legs and neck together so as 
to appear hke a lame beggar. Thus equipped, he went to meet 
Naber, the owner of the horse, who he knew was to pass that 
way. When he saw Naber approaching on his beautiful steed, 
he cried in a weak voice, — 

" I am a poor stranger ; for three days I have been unable to 
move from this spot to seek for food. I am dying ; help me, and 
Heaven will reward you." 

The Bedouin kindly offered to take him up on his horse and 
carry him home ; but the rogue replied, — 

" I cannot rise, I have no strength left." 

Naber, touched with pity, dismounted, led his horse to the 
spot, and with great difficulty set the seeming beggar on its 
back. 

But no sooner did Daher feel himself in the saddle than he 
set spurs to the horse and galloped off, calling out as he did so : 

"It is I, Daher. I have got the horse, and am off with it." 
Naber called after him to stop and listen. Certain of not being 
pursued, he turned and halted at a short distance from Naber, 
who was armed with a spear. 

" You have taken my horse," said the latter. " Since Heaven 
has willed it, I wish you joy of it ; but I do conjure you never to 
tell any one how you obtained it." 

" And why not ? " said Daher. 

"Because," said the noble Arab, "another man might be 
really ill, and men would fear to help him. You would be the 
cause of many refusing to perform an act of charity, for fear of 
being duped as I have been." 

Struck with shame at these words, Daher was silent for a 



70 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



moment, then springing from the horse, returned it to the owner, 
embracing him. Naber made him accompany him to his tent, 
where they spent a few days together, and became fast friends 
for hfe. 

11. We shall learn more about truthfulness, and 
what a beautiful and strong virtue it is, if we look a 
little closer into the character of its opposite vice. 
Lying is an ugly word, and, of course, lie and liar 
are very ugly words ; but we must use them to learn 
our lesson. 

Let us see what a lie is. It is an untruth meant 
to deceive. We may imagine things that might be 
true and tell them as pleasant stories, and we may tell 
fairy tales that teach truth. While these stories are 
not literally true, they are not lies, because we do not 
mean to deceive any one. If a very young child is 
deceived by a fairy-story told for the moral which the 
story teaches, the story-teller means that the moral 
truth shall be fixed in the little one's mind, knowing 
that the deception will wear away before a very long 
time. 

A lie is the falsehood which deceives and wrongs 
another, and which is meant to do this. 

While every lie is a bad and mean thing, there is 
one kind of lying that is cruel. That is slander. 
It is the lie against the character of another person. 
This robs the slandered one of his good name. This 
says that the very self of the other person is not what 
it is. 

So false, mean, and despicable is a liar — even 
when his lying is only meant to screen himself, or to 
get some advantage — that if no one finds him out 



TR UTHFULNESS. 



71 



he ought to despise himself. But the meanest of all 
liars, as we have seen, is the cruel slanderer. He is 
the backbiter. 

But then we hear of a kind of lie that is called " a 
white lie." Well, it is a lie, just as a little rat is as 
verily a rat as a big one. One lies if he flatters us, 
trying to make us think that he has a better opinion 
of us or of something we do than he really has. 
One lies if he exaggerates, that is, if he tries to make 
a fact appear larger than it really is. 

Sometimes people will equivocate ; that is, they 
cover up the truth with words that mean one thing 
to the speaker and another thing to the hearer. 
Suppose a boy is on the cellar stairs going down, and 
his mother, not wishing him to be in the cellar, 
should call out, "What are you doing in the cellar } " 
The boy might answer, " I'm not in the cellar ; " but 
such words would be a falsehood. 

Really, to tell the truth, we must, as we saw at the 
beginning, be true. Here is a picture of a true boy 
who got the name of " Little Scotch Granite." It 
was a good name to get. As the sailors called a naval 
hero " Old Ironsides," because he was brave and 
determined, so this boy got his name, because his 
truthfulness was as strong as granite. The writer 
who gives us the story has a short preface to it. 
Thus it is told : — 

Did you ever have a bit of cloth that you thought clean 
until some time it happened to be laid close by a new piece, and 
then you saw it was soiled? In a similar way people discover 
facts about themselves sometimes, as Burt and Johnnie Lee did 
when their cousin came to live with them. They were " pretty 



72 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



good boys," and would have been very angry if anybody had 
called them deceitful. 

Well, when their cousin came they were delighted. He was 
little, but bright and full of fun. He could tell curious things 
about his home in Scotland and his voyage across the ocean. 
He was as far advanced in his studies as they were, and the first 
day he went to school they thought him remarkably good. He 
wasted no time in play when he should have been studying, and 
he recited finely. At night, before the close of school, the 
teacher called a roll, and the boys began to answer " Ten." 
When Willie understood that he was to say " Ten " if he had 
not whispered during the day, he replied, — 

" I have whispered." 

" More than once ? " 

" Yes, sir," said Willie. 

" As many as ten times ? " 

" Maybe I have," faltered Willie. 

"Then I shall mark you 'zero,' said the teacher sternly; 
"and that is considered a great disgrace." 

" Why, I did not see you whisper once," said Johnnie, that 
night after school. 

" Well, I did," said Willie ; " I saw others doing it, and so I 
asked to borrow a book : then I lent a slate-pencil, and asked a 
boy for a knife, and did several such things. I supposed it was 
allowed." 

" Oh ! we all do it," said Burt, reddening. " There isn't any 
sense in the old rule, and nobody could keep it; nobody does." 

" I will, or else I will say I haven't," said Willie. " Do you 
suppose I could tell ten lies in one heap? " 

" Oh ! we don't call them lies," muttered Johnnie. " There 
wouldn't be a credit among us at night if we were so strict." 

" What of that, if you told the truth 1 " laughed Willie 
bravely. 

In a short time the boys all saw how it was with him. He 
studied very hard, played with all his might in playtime, but, ac- 
cording to his own account, he lost more credits than any of the 
rest. After some weeks the boys answered " Nine " and " Eight " 
oftener than they used to, yet the schoolroom seemed to have 



TR UTHFULNESS. 



73 



grown much quieter. Sometimes, when WilHe Grant's mark 
was even lower than usual, the teacher would smile peculiarly, 
but said no more of " disgrace." Willie never preached at them 
or told tales, but somehow it made the boys ashamed of them- 
selves, just the seeing that this sturdy, blue-eyed Scotch boy 
must tell the truth. It was putting the clean cloth by the half- 
soiled one, you see; they felt Hke cheats and "story-tellers." 
They talked over him and loved him, if they did nickname him 
" Scotch Granite," he was so firm about a promise. 

Well, at the end of the term, Willie's name was very low 
down in the credit list. When it was read it was hard work for 
him not to cry, for he was very sensitive, and he tried hard to 
be perfect. But the last thing that day was a speech by the 
teacher, who told of once seeing a man muffled up in a cloak. 
He was passing him without a look, when he was told the man 
was General , the great hero. 

" The signs of his rank were hidden, but the hero was there 
just the same," said the teacher. " And now, boys, you will see 
what I mean when I tell you that I want to give a little gold 
medal to the most faithful boy — the one really conscientiously 
' perfect ' in his deportment among you. Who shall it be ? " 

Little Scotch Granite ! " shouted forty boys at once ; for 
the child whose name was so " low " on the credit list had made 
truth noble in their eyes. 

The only way to undo a lie is — what } 
To own Mp. 

III. We may be untruthful sometimes in keeping 
silence. Think of it, we may keep our lips closed 
and be lying ! We may know something that we 
ought to tell, and by silence we may pretend that we 
do not know. If one boy should break a window, and 
another innocent boy was charged with it, and one of 
us should know who did the damage, how could we 
keep silence and be truthful Even if we did not 
wish to inform against the boy who did wrong, we 



74 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



should be noble enough to say, I know who did it ; 
it was not the boy who is accused ; I prefer not to 
tell any more," It is not right to be silent when 
another's character is falsely spoken of. 

It is not always easy to determine when we ought 
to speak out for truth's sake, and when for weighty 
reasons we ought to keep silence. There is a story 
that may help us, called : — 

The Three Sieves. — " Oh, mamma ! " cried little Blanche, 
" I heard such a tale about Edith Howard ! I did not think she 
could be so very naughty. One " — 

" My dear," interrupted Mrs. Philpott, " before you continue, 
we will see if your story will pass the three sieves." 

" What does that mean, mamma " inquired Blanche. 

" I will explain it. In the first place, Is it true ? " 

" I suppose so ; I got it from Miss White, and she is a great 
friend of Edith." 

"And does she show her friendship by telling tales of her? 
In the next place, though you can prove it to be true, Is it 
ki?zdf" 

"I did not mean to be unkind, mamma, but I am afraid it 
was. I should not like Edith to speak of me as I have spoken 
of her." 

" And, Is it necessary ? " 
No, of course, mamma ; there is no need for me to mention 
it all." 

" Then put a bridle on your tongue, dear Blanche, and don't 
speak of it. If we cannot speak well of our own friends, let us 
not speak of them at all." 

What about keeping our promises } 
That is very important. 

Only, if we ever find that we have made a wrong 
promise, one that we ought not to have made, we 
should at once recall it. It is but a little matter if 



TR UTHFULNESS. 



75 



any one laughs at us, or gets angry at us, or even 
calls us a liar for so doing. 

The old Romans had a beautiful character in one of their 
heroes, named Regulus. He was at the head of a large army in 
the land of an enemy, and won many battles. But there came 
at last defeat for him, and he, with some of his soldiers, was 
taken prisoner. At the end of five years his captors sent him 
back to Rome on his word of honor that he would return to 
them. The reason for this was that Carthage wished to make 
peace with Rome. Regulus, on reaching Rome, presented the 
message of Carthage, but gave it as his opinion that Rome 
should not accept the terms. The Romans thought so much of 
his views that they voted not to accept the offer made to them. 
Then they tried to persuade Regulus to remain at home. But 
he was too noble to break his word, though he knew that he 
would be killed in Carthage for his courage and honesty in giv- 
ing wise advice to his fellow Romans. He would not see his 
family, and went back to the enemy to suffer a cruel death. 

Truthfulness has a twin-brother in its inner life. 
It is honesty. One who speaks the truth will be 
found to be honest. The two are so nearly alike 
because they grow out of the same root in our soul. 
Indeed, we might study honesty as a duty to our- 
selves. But we shall see before we get through these 
lessons, that the virtues cannot belong to only one 
part of morality. What we find to be duty to our- 
selves, we shall also find to be duty to others. 
And to be true will ever keep us honest. We have, 
therefore, been studying truthfulness among the 
duties to ourselves, and we shall wait until we come 
to duty to others for the study of honesty. 

Truthfulness is the most important virtue in char- 
acter. It is in character something like the main- 



76 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



spring in a watch. You know the main-spring of a 
watch is what is wound up to keep the watch going. 
But the main-spring in our character should never 
run down. It should be a living main-spring, and 
not a dead one. 

The story of George Washington and his hatchet 
shows us what was the main-spring in the great char- 
acter of his good life. Sometimes persons tell that 
story in a funny way to raise a laugh. To do that is 
to lessen reverence for truth itself. Some persons 
say that it is a made-up story. Well, if that be so, it 
shows us how highly esteemed was the character of 
Washington, and what was thought to be the only 
kind of childhood that could have produced such a 
noble character. 



COURAGE, 



77 



v.— COURAGE. 

Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in 
the Lord. — Ps. 31 : 24. 

Through childhood, through manhood, 

Through life to the end, 
Struggle bravely, and stand 
By your colors, my friend. 

— Phoebe Cary. 

It is quite in order for a lesson on courage to fol- 
low that on truthfulness. Truthfulness will help us 
to be brave, and courage will help us to be truthful. 

I. By courage we mean strength of heart to at- 
tempt what we ought to do. We should try to re- 
member that, for many seem to make a mistake as 
to what courage is. Sometimes a rash person who 
does what there is no good reason for doing is called 
brave. A very common mistake is made in thinking 
that courage consists in not being afraid. Now, the 
highest courage is moral courage which leads us to 
do a right thing when we are afraid. 

The Duke of Wellington knew what it is to be courageous. 
One day in the midst of a battle he ordered a young staff-officer 
to carry a message to a very dangerous part of the field. This 
was the first perilous duty that had been asked of this very young 
man, and as he received the order he turned pale. But putting 
his spurs into his horse's flanks he rode away without a moment's 
hesitation to do his duty. " There goes a courageous man," 
said the Duke ; "he is afraid, but he goes without a thought of 
halting until his errand shall lie ('.one." That young lieutenant 
had a strong soul, and that is to have moral courage. 



78 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Cowardice is the lowest form of weakness. It is 
so mean that the coward is ashamed to acknowledge 
his want of spirit. Cowardice makes one wretched 
as well as mean. One had often better go and get 
hurt and have it over at once, than be trembling 
with fear of what is to come. A boy who has done 
wrong and lied about it, who is in misery lest he may 
be found out, had better own up to the truth and 
take his punishment. 

Sometimes a boy who is old enough to defend 
himself is constantly afraid that some bully who has 
taken a dislike to him will attack him. This is a 
very bad position for a true boy to be in. He does 
not wish to get into a fight. That is low vulgarity 
which he detests. The fight would decide nothing 
if the bully should be strong and skilful enough to 
whip him. Then, again, the low and cruel boy might 
fight unfairly, and in a savage way. But the true 
boy does not wish to live in fear of another. Great 
prudence is called for ; much greater prudence than 
even a good boy is apt to possess. He ought to lay 
the whole case frankly before some wise adult friend 
— choosing his father or his teacher if he can. 

Courage will help us to bear pain. 

A little boy of six years had his leg broken, and was carried 
home where his poor mother was in bed of a long sickness. 
She tried to get up when her injured boy was brought to the 
house, but fainted in the effort. When the surgeon set the leg, 
the little fellow suffered much pain, for it was before the days 
when surgeons had such means to prevent pain as they now 
have. But this boy was a hero, and would not utter a cry. Some 
one beside him asked if the surgeons did not hurt him. He an- 
swered softly, "Oh, very much; but I'm so afraid of making 
mother sorry, that I try to keep from crying." 



COURAGE. 



79 



II. We are often told to give a kiss for a blow. 
That is only putting Jesus Christ's rule of charity 
and forgiveness into other words. He bids us to 
put up with evil, to love our enemies, and to do good 
to them. A kiss for a blow is returning good for 
evil. A kiss here stands for any act of kindness. 
Now let us try to understand our duty under this 
rule. 

Jesus Christ's commandment cannot be against 
true manliness. Our manliness and our security 
may compel us to defend ourselves if we are at- 
tacked. But let us be ready to forgive those whom 
we must hurt in our self-defence. We should always 
be ready to return a kindness for an injury, and 
should watch for opportunity to conquer anger or mal- 
ice in others with a gentle service. But we should not 
choose a kiss for a blow merely because we are afraid 
to give a blow. Good for evil shows a noble spirit, 
and often it demands more courage than is required 
by the blow for blow. Only necessity should ever 
lead the strongest and bravest person to give blow 
for blow. The greatest triumphs, in the end, have 
come from good temper and patience forgiving an 
insult or an injury. And sometimes the most desira- 
ble result has followed when a strong one has chosen 
to take evil and give good. 

Hear how a brother changed a sister's anger to 
merriment : — 

Jeanie and John were brother and sister. Jeanie had a tem- 
per which was apt to fire up hke a lucifer match when things 
did not please her. At such times she pouted her lips until 
they looked as if they had been stung by a wasp. 



So 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



One day John did something which she did not like. Out 
flashed the angry fires from her large black eyes, as she pouted 
her hps until they looked twice their proper size. Her brother, 
who was full of good nature, laughed and said, — 

" Look out, Jeanie, or I'll take a seat up there on your lip." 
This funny remark fell Hke sunshine on Jeanie's heart, and 
changed her pouts into smiles at once. With a sly glance at 
her brother, she replied, " Then Til laugh, and you'll fall off." 

Johnny's soft answer turned Jeanie's wrath into good humor. 
Had he pouted, and spoken back, both of them would have 
been made unhappy. 

And there is a story of a boy who found courage 
to return good for evil called 

Joe Benton's Coal Yard. 

Just imagine the loveliest May morning that ever was made. 
There must have been something very curious in the air that 
morning, for when little Joe Benton sprang out of the back door, 
with hair as golden as the sun's, and eyes as blue as the violet's, 
and voice almost as sweet as the robin's, he took one long 
breath, shouted a vigorous hurrah ! but seeming just as crazy as 
the birds, he didn't feel at all reheved till he had climbed a tree, 
turned three somersaults, and jumped over the garden fence. 

" Saturday, too," he said to himself, as he rested upon the 
other side. " Was there ever anything so lucky 1 Now I'll 
have just time to run down to the brook before breakfast, and 
see if our boat is all right. Then I'll hurry home, learn my 
lessons for Monday ; for we boys are to meet and launch her at 
nine o'clock, and the captain ought to be up to time." 

So Joe's small feet clattered vigorously down to the httle cave 
where the precious boat was hidden. But, as he neared the 
place, an exclamation of surprise escaped him, for there were 
signs of some intruder, and the big stone before the cave had 
been rolled away. Hastily drawing forth his treasure, he burst 
into loud cries of dismay, for there was the beautiful little boat 
which cousin Herbert had given him, with its gay sails split in a 
hundred shreds, and a large holj bored in the bottom. 



COURAGE. 



Si 



Joe stood for a moment motionless with grief and surprise ; 
then, with a face as red as a peony, he burst forth, — 

" I know who did it. The mean scamp ! It was Fritz Brown ; 
and he was mad because I didn't ask him to come to the launch. 
But I'll pay him for this caper," said httle Joe through his set 
teeth, and hastily pushing back the ruined boat, he hurried a 
little farther down the road, and fastening a piece of string across 
the footpath a few inches from the ground, he carefully hid him- 
self in the bushes. 

Now the good honest sun was afraid something was going 
wrong, and he held a little cloud handkerchief over his eyes, 
but Joe did not notice it. He only knew that he was very angry 
and miserable, and he wondered that he had ever thought it was 
a pleasant morning. 

Presently a step was heard, and Joe eagerly peeped out. 
How provoking ! instead of Fritz it was cousin Herbert, the 
very last person he cared to see, and hastily unfastening his 
string, Joe tried to lie very quiet. 

But it was all in vain, for cousin Herbert's sharp eyes caught 
a curious moving in the bushes, and brushing them right and 
left, he soon came upon little Joe. 

" How's this ? " cried he, looking straight into the boy's blaz- 
ing face. 

But Joe answered not a word. 

" You're not ashamed to tell me what you were doing ? " 

" No, I am not," said little Joe sturdily, after a short pause ; 
" I'll just tell you the whole story ; " and out it came down to 
the closing threat, " and I mean to make Fritz smart for it ! " 

"What do you mean to do ? " 

"Why, you see, Fritz carries a basket of eggs to market 
every morning, and I mean to trip him over this string and 
smash 'em all." 

Now, Joe knew well enough that he was not showing the right 
spirit, and he muttered to himself, " Now for a good scolding ; " 
but, to his great surprise, cousin Herbert said quietly, — 

"Well, I think Fritz does need some punishment; but this 
string is an old trick. I can tell you something better than that." 

" What ? " cried Joe, eagerly. 



82 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



"How would you like to put a few coals of fire on his head ? " 
" What, and burn him ? " said Joe doubtfully. 
Cousin Herbert nodded, with a queer smile. Joe clapped his 
hands. 

" Now, that's just the thing, cousin Herbert. You see, his 
hair is so thick he wouldn't get burned much before he'd have 
time to shake 'em off ; but I'd just like to see him jump once. 
Now tell me how to do it, quick ! " 

"If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat, and if he 
be thirsty, give him water to drink, for thou shalt heap coals of 
fire upon his head, and the Lord shall reward thee," said cousin 
Herbert gravely ; " and I think that's the best kind of punish- 
ment little Fritz could have." 

Joe's face lengthened terribly. 

" Now, I do sa}^, cousin Herbert, that's a real take-in. That's 
just no punishment at all." 

" Try it once," said cousin Herbert, " treat Fritz kindly, and 
I am certain he will feel so ashamed and unhappy that he would 
rather have you kick or beat him." 

Joe was not really such a bad boy at heart, but he was now 
in a very bad temper, and he said, sullenly, — 

" But you've told me a story, cousin Herbert. You said this 
kind of coals would burn, and they don't at all." 

"You're mistaken about that," said his cousin cheerily. 
" I've known such coals to burn up a great deal of rubbish — 
malice, envy, ill-feeling, revenge, and I don't know how much 
more — and then leave some very cold hearts feeling as warm 
and pleasant as possible." 

Joe drew a long sigh. 

" Well, tell me a good coal to put on Fritz's head, and I'll see 
about it." 

"You know," said cousin Herbert, smiling, "that Fritz is 
very poor, and can seldom buy himself a book, although he is 
extravagantly fond of reading ; and you have quite a library. 
Now, suppose — oh! well, I won't suppose anything about it. 
I'll just leave you to think over the matter, and find your own 
coal ; " and with a cheery whistle, cousin Herbert sprang over 
the fence and was gone. 



COURAGE. 



83 



But Joe began to think that he would be ashamed to do any- 
thing like what was suggested. Fritz would think him a coward. 
He was not at all afraid to fight Fritz- if smashing the eggs 
should make Fritz angry ; but he was afraid that he would be 
thought to be a coward. Then the suggestion came from his 
good angel, that it would be a right thing to dare being con- 
sidered a coward ; that he should not be afraid of being called 
a coward, nor of being laughed at. 

Before Joe had time to collect his thought, he saw Fritz com- 
ing down the lane, carrying a basket of eggs in one hand and a 
pail of milk in the other. 

For one minute the thought crossed Joe's mind, "What a 
grand smash it would have been if Fritz had fallen over the 
string! " and then again he blushed to his eyes, and was glad 
enough that the string was safe in his pocket. 

Fritz started and looked very uncomfortable when he first 
caught sight of Joe, but the boy began abruptly, — 

" Fritz, do you have much time to read now " 

"Sometimes," said Fritz, "when Fve driven the cows home 
and done all my chores, I have a httle piece of daylight left ; 
but the trouble is, I've read everything I can get hold of." 

" How would you like to take my new book of travels t " 

Fritz's eyes danced. 

" Oh, may I, may I ? I'd be j^? careful of it ! " 

"Yes," answered Joe; "and perhaps I've some others you'd 
like to read. And Fritz," he added, a httle slyly, " I would ask 
you to come and help me to sail my boat to-day, but some one 
has torn up the sails and made a great hole in the bottom. 
Who do you suppose did it ? " 

Fritz's head dropped upon his breast ; but after a moment he 
looked up with a great effort, and said, — 

" I did it, Joe ; but I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. 
You didn't know I was so mean when you promised me the 
books ? " 

" Well, I rather thought you did it," said Joe slowly. 
" And yet you didn't " — 

Fritz couldn't get any farther, for his cheeks were in a per- 
fect blaze, and he rushed off without another word. 



84 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



"Cousin Herbert was right," said Joe to himself; "that coal 
does burn ; and I know Fritz would rather I had smashed every 
egg in his basket than offered to lend him that book. But I feel 
fine;" and little Joe took three more somersaults, and went 
home with a light heart and a grand appetite for breakfast. 

When the captain and crew of the little vessel met at the ap- 
pointed hour, they found Fritz there before them, eagerly trying 
to repair the injuries ; and as soon as he saw Joe, he hurried to 
present him with a beautiful little flag which he had bought for 
the boat with part of his egg money that very morning. The 
boat was repaired and made a grand trip, and everything turned 
out as cousin Herbert had said, for Joe's heart was so warm and 
full of kind thoughts that he never was more happy in all his 
life. And Joe found out afterwards that the more he used of 
this curious kind of coal, the larger supply he had on hand — 
kind thoughts, kind words, and kind actions. 

" I declare, cousin Herbert," said he, with a queer twinkle in 
his eye, " I think I shall have to set up a coal-yard." 

III. There are three things which will help us to 
grow out of cowardice. 

The first is to have faith in our Heavenly Father. 
If we believe that He is taking care of us and that 
the right is always His side, we shall dare suffering 
that may be threatened for doing right. 

What gave any one a name among the noble army 
of Christian martyrs } 

That he or she suffered death for serving Christ. 

Faith in our Heavenly Father gave the martyrs 
their courage. Men and women, even young girls, 
chose death before they would forsake the Christian 
religion. 

St. Chrysostom was brought before the emperor, who said, 
" I will send you into banishment unless you give up your 
religion." 



COURAGE. 



85 



"All the world is my Father's house," replied the good 
bishop. 

" I will take away all your treasures," was the next threat. 

The answer was, " Earthly treasures I do not care for ; my 
best treasure is laid up in heaven." 

" I will put you to death," said the emperor. 

The answer to that was, You may kill this body. I do not 
care much for that ; you cannot hurt my soul." 

Such trust in God made the martyrs willing to be 
thrown to lions, to be burned at the stake, and to 
be put to death in all the cruel forms that were 
used. 

The second thing to do, if we would grow out of 
cowardice, is to act on our trust in our Heavenly 
Father and dare to do right. Daring to do right 
when it seems that we may be hurt for so doing, is 
exercising our courage. If one wishes to get strong 
muscles, what must he do } 

Exercise them. 

Look at a blacksmith's arm, and see how strong it 
is ! Moral powers may also be exercised and made 
to grow. The first battle that a soldier has to face 
is very trying. The second, the third, or the fourth 
may be more dangerous than the first ; but the soldier 
has greater courage now, because he has exercised it 
by going into his first battle. 

The third thing to do that we may lose cowardice 
is to learn all we can. What is it to learn } 

To get knowledge. 

What is opposed to knowledge ? 

Ignorance. 

Very often cowardice is because of ignorance. 
The child who is afraid to go to sleep in darkness is 



86 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



ignorant. He needs to learn that darkness is a bless- 
ing for one who has nothing to do but sleep. Dark- 
ness is better for sleep than light is. Only when we 
need to see should we wish for light. There is 
nothing can take advantage of darkness to harm us, 
except the visit of an some evil-minded person like a 
cowardly thief. Such a person would not wish to 
disturb a child. 

A little girl went to visit her aunt in the country. She had 
to sleep in a room by herself, which was not her custom at 
home, where she slept with her sister. While on this visit she 
awoke one night, and saw something white at the foot of the 
bed. Its head, which she thought she saw as plainly as could 
be, was turned a little to one side, and was not looking at her. 
Her first thought, from the foolish talk of an ignorant servant 
some years before, was this : " It's a ghost j I'm sure it is ! " 
and with that she pulled the bedclothes over her head. 

Then came a better thought : " My father says there are no 
ghosts." 

Then followed the best thought of all. " If there are ghosts, 
and one is here, isn't God\i^xQ. too ? " 

With this came true courage, and she determined to have 
another look at the white thing. It was there still, and it did 
look very much hke a living thing of some kind. "Well, if it 
is," she said to herself, " I'll speak to it." She cried out, 
" Who's there ? " 

The figure did not stir nor answer. There it stood as still 
and white as ever. 

"I'll know who or what you are," said the child. "Mother 
says that frights are worse in people's fancies than anywhere 
else." She jumped out of bed to find that it was only the moon- 
light shining on the wall through partly-opened curtains. " How 
much it did look Hke a head with eyes, and nose, and mouth ! " 
she said. 

Learning is precisely like getting more light. As 



COURAGE. 



87 



people have learned the law and the order of the 
world, they have seen much to be right that they 
once were afraid was wrong. Not very long ago 
nearly every one was frightened at an eclipse of the 
sun or the moon. Now it is generally understood, 
only a very few ignorant persons have any dread of 
an eclipse. 

A gentleman one night was on shipboard saih'ng along a coast 
where a friend of his had met shipwreck. He felt no fear. 
Why ? Because he remembered that his friend's ship was cut- 
ting her way through thick fog when she ran ashore ; and 
this ship on which he now stood was sailing on the waters of a 
silver sea, and the brightest moonlight was shining on the head- 
lands and the islands. 

To learn facts is like getting out of fog ; the mind 
then sees, while in ignorance the mind is darkened. 

Only the courageous are heroes. We learn of 
soldiers "losing all but honor." What is meant is 
this, that though they lose a battle and their guns, 
they come back having done all that brave men 
could do. They are honored in defeat. 

Our highest example of courage is Jesus Christ 
meeting and conquering temptation, and, at the end 
of His work, going to the cross. 



88 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



VL — SELF-CONTROL. 

He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his 
spirit, than he that taketh a city. — Prov. i6 : 32. 

How happy is he born and taught 

Whose passions not his masters are ! 

Lord of himself, though not of lands. 
And having nothing yet hath all. 

— Sir Henry Wotton. 

We are to study self-control. 

No one can be a double person, but every one of 
us may find that we appear like double persons. A 
very strange story has been written, which shows the 
same man sometimes as Dr. Jekyll, a good man, and 
at other times as Mr. Hyde, a very bad man. 

There is a good part in us, and there is a bad part 
in us. The good in us is reasonable ; the bad is 
foolish. One is the higher part of our nature. The 
good and higher part will make our self strong ; 
the foolish and lower part will make us weak. If 
the evil in us gets to be strong, it will make our soul 
weak, and it will govern our life. 

I. By self-control we mean that the good and wise 
part of our nature makes itself the master of the bad 
and foolish part. 

A boy's foolish temper should not be allowed to 
master and weaken that part of him which we found 



SELF-CONTROL. 



89 



to be the true self ; but his good sense should rule 
and command his temper. A girl's silly vanity 
should not be allowed to make her soul fond of mean 
and foolish thoughts. 

We teach a horse to go as he should, by putting a 
bridle on him and a bit in his mouth, and by training 
him to turn as we pull him. But we teach a child 
to go through life by showing him a law written in 
his heart. Learning this good law in us, and being 
governed by it, is self-control. 

In a German town a boy was playing with his four-year-old 
sister, when a mad dog chased by hallooing men ran towards 
them. Now, if this boy had waited to be told what to do, it 
would have been too late to do anything. If he had been a 
weak coward, he would have left his little sister unprotected. 
What there was to do had to be done on the instant ; and 
what he did was action that came out of the brave and thought- 
ful character of the boy. He took off his coat, and, wrapping it 
hurriedly around his arm, faced the dog, holding out his arm 
and coat for the dog to attack them. The dog worried at the 
coat until the men came up and killed him. *' I could have run 
from the dog," said the little hero, " but if I had done so, he 
would have bitten my little sister." 

That boy's law of courage and wisdom written 
within him controlled his conduct. That was self- 
control. There is also a law of goodness or right- 
eousness written in our heart to control conduct. 

II. Self-control is lost through some bad passion 
in us, anger, for instance, or some contemptible feel- 
ing like fright. 

A bad horse or a frightefted horse will run away 
with us unless we can hold him with bit and reins. 
Thus it will be necessary for the good and wise and 



90 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



strong in us to have a curb always on the bad and 
foolish and weak in us. 

If we lose self-control the bad part of us will have 
greater strength over us the next time we are in need 
of goodness and wisdom. If we do not practise self- 
control we shall be in danger of becoming a slave to 
our evil part. 

What a pitiful sight is that of an aged person 
whose temper masters him ! He cannot control his 
anger, and his passion makes him ridiculous. Chil- 
dren, it may be, are afraid of him and get out of his 
way ; while other persons laugh at his wild behavior. 
"The poor old man," it is said, "makes a fool of 
himself." And he has reached an old age at which 
he can hardly help it ; the good in him has become 
the slave of the bad. 

III. We may get self-control against anger by 
holding in the bad part of us, by biting our lips be- 
fore we will speak an angry word or strike a hasty 
blow. 

Here is another story from one of the Jewel 
Sermo7is : — 

Edward Norton was a good fellow with a bad temper. He 
was fond of reading about the great conquerors in history. His 
mother, to show him how he might become a greater conqueror 
than any, had him repeat every morning for a whole week the 
text we have for this lesson. And she taught him to pray over 
it. One day Edward was playing with some boys, and the play 
ended in dispute. One boy called Edward a fool, laughed at 
him, and made fun of him. In a moment Edward grew red in 
the face, and the fire began to flash from his eyes. He had 
just doubled up his fist, and was raising his hand to strike a 
blow, when he suddenly stopped. He had thought of what his 



SELF-CONTROL, 



91 



mother had taught him about conquering his anger. The 
silent prayer went up in a moment, " Lord, help me to over- 
come it." No angry word was spoken ; no angry blow was 
struck. His mother afterwards told him that he had gained a 
more glorious victory than any that Alexander, or Caesar, or 
Napoleon ever gained in war. 

Suppose quarrelsome persons obliged to be to- 
gether should act in that way, what happiness would 
replace misery ! To show this there is a story 
called 

The Two Bears. 

A MAN and his wife were known to live very unhappily 
together. They were said to be the most quarrelsome people 
in the whole village in which they lived. They would not bear 
the least thing from each other. Like a cat and dog, there was 
a constant snarHng, and growling, and quarrelling between 
them. But all at once it was observed by some of their neigh- 
bors that a great change had passed over them. They didn't 
quarrel any more. No harsh, cross words passed between 
them. Instead of this, they were observed to be gentle and 
kind to each other, and their house, from being a scene of con- 
stant strife, became the home of peace and happiness. Of 
course this excited a good deal of surprise in the neighborhood. 
Everybody was wondering what had happened to old Mr. and 
Mrs. S. 

At last an old lady in the neighborhood, whom we may call 
Miss Inquisitive, felt that she couldn't stand it any longer. She 
must find out what it was. So she paid a visit to their house, 
and said, " Mrs. S., everybody in the village is talking about 
the wonderful change which has come over you and your hus- 
band. But nobody seems to know what it is owing to ; so I 
thought I would just come in and ask you what it is which has 
produced this change ? " 

" I am glad to see you, Miss Inquisitive," said Mrs. S. ; 
*'the change, I assure you, has been a very happy one to us. It 
has been brought about by two bears.'" 



92 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



" Two bears . " exclaimed Miss Inquisitive, lifting up her 
hands in astonishment. 

" Yes, two bears ; and I'm very glad they ever came into 
our house." 

" But what in the world do you mean ? " 

" I mean two Scripture bears." 

" Two Scripture bears ! why, you puzzle me more and 
more." 

" It's true, though." 

" I don't remember reading in the Scripture of any two 
bears, except those that ate up the wicked children who mocked 
the prophet Ehsha ; and they must have been dead long ago." 

"Yes ; but there are two other bears mentioned in Scrip- 
ture." 

" Pray tell me where they are spoken of, for I'm sure I 
dont't recollect them." 

" We read about one of them in Gal. 4 : 2, where it says, 
' Bear ye one another's burdens.' And we read about the other 
in Eph. 4 : 2, where it says, ' Forbearing one another in love.' 
Their names are Bear and Forbear 

" Well, I am sure ! " said Miss Inquisitive, and away she 
went home. 

Oh, if those two bears were only allowed to come into every 
house and dwell there, how much trouble and sorrow it would 
prevent, and how much good it would do ! 

That story shows us a cure for anger that is better 
than having to bite our lips when a fit of passion 
comes to us. There is a virtue which stands hard 
things and calmly waits for the end of them. What 
is it } 

Patience. 

If we are patient in forbearing when small annoy- 
ances come to us we shall be stronger to meet great 
trials of our temper. 

It will help us to get self-control against fright if 



SELF-CONTROL. 



93 



we learn to what foolish acts frightened persons give 
way. 

Some ladies were out in a carriage, and the horses ran away. 
The coachman took a strong pull on the reins, and found that 
he could keep the horses in the road, and he thought that in a 
little while he would be able to check them. But one of the 
ladies began to scream, and this frightened the horses the 
more, and they became so unmanageable that the driver was 
thrown from his seat, the carriage was overturned and broken, 
and the ladies were seriously injured. This screaming woman 
had no control over her weakness, and did a most foolish thing. 

To get self-control against fright there are con- 
siderations for the moment of fright that must be fixed 
in mind beforehand. We must be resolved to keep 
quiet and to stop for a few moments that we may 
think what is best and right to do. We should also 
determine that whenever a fit of fright may come to 
us, we will call up our trust in God. 

Crying out when frightened is a very foolish weak- 
ness. And running away from supposed danger with- 
otU any other thought than ninning away^ is dangerous. 

In a large schoolhouse where there were nearly one thousand 
children, a little girl saw smoke coming from a closet under a 
stairway. Some old paper and rubbish had been put there, and 
in some way it had taken lire ; but it was a very small fire, and 
it could have been put out with a bucket of water or smothered 
with a shawl if the girl had only gone up quickly and quietly to 
tell the teacher. Instead of doing this, she screamed, "Fire, 
fire^ FIRE ! " A panic followed. A panic is simply a crowd of 
persons losing their good sense, losing their heads, and thinking 
of nothing else but running away. The other children had no 
more self-control than the girl who first saw the smoke. They 
ran down the stairways, tripping one another up in their head- 
long haste, and many of them fell in a great heap on the ground- 



94 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



floor. Some of these were taken out dead, and others were 
dying. 

Here is a rare instance of self-control in enduring 
pain. 

Two men were sent to put up a lightning-rod on a tall steeple. 
When they had got to a station seventy feet from the ground, 
one had to stand on the other's shoulders with a pail of molten 
lead hung at his side. In this position he steadied himself 
with one hand and worked with the other. In some way the 
pail tipped, and some molten lead fell on the hand and arm of 
the man below. Now, if this man had not learned self-control 
against pain, what an awful accident would have come to his 
brother workman! He knew that, and braced his whole mind 
to his duty. That duty was to bear pain — severe pain. In- 
stead of crying out with his suffering, he said, " Get down, 
Jim, at once." If he had moved under his pain, the man on his 
shoulders would have fallen and been dashed to pieces on the 
pavement. But the hurt man did not move ; he just stood still, 
and let the hot lead burn into his flesh, and thus saved the life 
of his comrade. 

An Indian warrior would feel himself greatly dis- 
graced to let his children see him show any sign of 
pain or fear when hurt or in danger. He would feel 
much more disgraced to let an enemy see anything 
of the kind. 

A child who will not cry when hurt, who will not 
allow a passion to master him, who will not become 
panic-stricken, is one who has self-control. If a 
schoolhouse should get on fire, such a child would 
march out under the teacher's direction as coolly as 
if it were only the recess-hour. 

After one has lost self-control he feels that his 
own self-respect has been wounded. If a hasty 



SELF-CONTRGL. 



95 



word or foolish act of ours has hurt any one, we feel 
quite badly that we did not control the lower part of 
our self. In this case what should we do ? 
Beg pm^don. 

The most successful general in our Civil War was 
General Grant. Let us see how he had to exercise 
self-control. He was hardly heard of by the country 
before the victory he obtained at Fort Donelson. 
After his capture of that place he was badly treated 
by many in high positions ; he was charged, among 
other things, with getting drunk over his victory 
and going off on a great drinking frolic. He and 
General Halleck, who was his superior officer, had a 
misunderstanding, and Grant felt himself to be very 
badly treated by Halleck. He tells us that Halleck 
virtually put him under arrest on board of a steam- 
boat, and kept him without a command for about a 
week. Then Grant fought the battle of Shiloh. He 
tells us that, soon after that battle. General Halleck 
moved his headquarters to the field where it was 
fought, or near it, assumed command of the troops, 
and ignored him as much as if he had been at a 
great distance. It may be that General Grant was 
very sensitive, and imagined bad treatment sometimes 
when it was not intended. But if that were so, he 
had all the deep wound to his feelings which one in 
such a position could experience. Now this great 
general was afterwards to take Vicksburg by a mag- 
nificent military movement and great persistence, 
and he was to capture the army of General Lee, a 
brave army under a great commander, and by this cap- 
ture to end the war. But before he did all this, he had 



96 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



to become slow to anger, and had to rule his own 
spirit. He was next in command to General Hal- 
leck ; and Grant shows us the sore trials to which 
his spirit was put. He had to acquire the character 
that conquers impatience in one's self. It was this 
strength of character that Grant showed in captur- 
ing Vicksburg, and in fighting Lee ; and it was this 
which gave him his victories. When you get old 
enough to read of the many battles Grant had to 
fight before he defeated Lee, of the long months he 
was at this serious and bitter work, and of the slow 
and weary advance, you will see what great patience 
of spirit was required of him. 

All great soldiers — great in every sense — have 
had this pov/er of self-control. 

A foolish young man who quarrelled with Sir Philip Sidney, 
and tried to provoke him to fight, went so far as to spit in his 
face. " Young man," said Sir Phihp, " if I could as easily wipe 
your blood from my conscience as I can wipe this insult from 
my face, I would this moment take your hfe." No wonder we 
find, with such self-control, that most beautiful picture of his 
dying hours. He is being borne wounded from the field, and 
complains bitterly of thirst ; some one hands him a bottle of 
water, and as he is about to drink he sees a dying soldier look- 
ing wistfully at the water ; he gives the water untasted to the 
poor fellow, saying, " Thy necessity is yet greater than mine." 
How humane and generous, even to painful self-denial, his self- 
control had enabled him to become ! 



ORDER. 



97 



VII. — ORDER. 



For this cause left I thee in Crete, that thou shouldest set in order the things 
that are wanting. — Tit. i : 5. 

Order is Heaven's first law ; . . . 

And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, 
One truth is clear : Whatever is, is right. 

— Pope. 

It is due to ourselves that we learn to be orderly. 

I. When we speak of oi^der in reference to our 
clothes, and books, and playthings, we simply mean, 
"a place for everything and everything in its place." 

If the many things that are put down carelessly, 
and in the wrong places, were left there for all our 
lifetime, what a sad state we should be in. It is a 
great relief when one, or some one else for him, puts 
things to rights. 

Here is a curious case of disorder that has re- 
mained staring people in the face for years : — 

A stone in the graveyard adjoining the old Concord school- 
house, in Germantown, Pa., bears the following inscription : — 

" In memory of Adam Shisler, who departed this life Decem- 
ber 22, 1777, aged 969 years." 

Now, every one knows that Mr. Shisler was not a second 
Methuselah, so there must have been some mistake. What was 
the mistake? The explanation is that the stone-cutter marked 
the man's age 96, instead of 69, by an accident that might hap- 
pen to any absent-minded person. To correct this, the " 9 " was 



98 THE RIGHT ROAD. 

filled with cement, and another figure cut after the "6." But 
time and frost loosened the cement, and now the once hidden 
figure appears as distinct as the others. 

It will serve our convenience very much to be 
orderly. It will save time and prevent fretfulness, 
and thus help both ourselves and others. We shall 
do more work and better work, and we can enjoy our- 
selves to a greater extent than otherwise. 

Lucy Smith was very fond of her doll, and her brother John 
was never happier than when drawing pictures on his slate. 
They were both disorderly in habit. John had no place for his 
slate, and left it wherever he might have been using it, — on a 
chair, or a table, or even on the floor. Lucy had a place for her 
doll, — a nice little bed that had been given her ; but it was not 
often that Dolly was put in her place when Lucy was through 
with her play. What were the consequences t Some one sat 
down on John's slate after he had left it on a chair, and a great 
crooked crack extended now from one side of the slate to the 
other. But that was not all. His mother was constantly finding 
the slate in her way, and had to put it somewhere, and John 
often wished for it and did not know where to find it. As for 
the doll, Lucy would go to bed leaving it anywhere, and the re- 
sult was that Dolly had no real good leg and only one perfect 
arm. She had been trodden upon in the darkness several times. 
The end came to both slate and doll. The brother and sister 
had been together on the floor late one afternoon, Lucy mend- 
ing her doll's broken arm, and John making ugly portraits of the 
doll on his slate, when they were called to supper, Down went 
the doll right on the floor, and down went the slate on top of 
the doll like a slab tilted over it. It was dark in that room after 
supper ; and as the children's father was passing through it, he 
trod with his heavy boot on the slate. Of course the slate was 
broken into fragments ; and the doll came to a sad end in hav- 
ing her head mashed flat and all her sawdust insides crushed 
out. 



ORDER. 



99 



Order is so important that we find, in the text at 
the head of this lesson, St. Paul giving direction to 
have one of the churches set in order. The newly- 
formed Church at Crete needed the appointment of 
proper officers so that matters should be attended to 
in an orderly manner. The verse from the poet 
teaches us that our Heavenly Father's work is always 
in order, and that His care over us is orderly. 

We come down from great and sacred examples to 
learn what we should do in little affairs. We have 
to oversee small matters — dolls, marbles, slates, 
books, thimbles, clothes, and other things, — all of 
which plague us when left out of their proper places 
and in a disorderly state. What our Heavenly 
Father does in the greatest matters, we ought to 
learn to apply in these small concerns of ours. It 
will help us all through life if we learn well all that 
is meant in the verse, Order is Heaven's first law." 

In what very important matter will it save us much 
time ? 

Ill lookifig for things. 

II. If we keep playthings, tools, and clothes in 
order, if we keep a room and the house in order, our 
mind will be helped to do orderly thinking. 

The opposite to order is confusion. And there is 
as much confusion in the thought and speech of some 
persons as there is in a disorderly room. They sel- 
dom tell us anything in an orderly and right way ; and 
it is because they do not think in an orderly manner. 

A boy ran in to his mother, breathless, to tell her a piece of 
news. This is the way he gave his story : " O mother, you 
know Paul Brown ? John Jones and him jumped up behind a 



100 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



butcher's wagon, and he shoved John off; and the wagon was 
going fast ; and he hallooed, ' Cut behind ! ' and the driver did 
cut behind, and then Paul gave him a beating ; and the butcher 
lashed him right across his cheek." 

The mother said, " I am sure it is not easy to know what you 
mean to tell me. It is incorrect speech for you to say, hiut 
jumped.' But I wish to know three or four matters of which your 
statement has not informed me. First, who shoved John Jones 
off the wagon — the butcher, or Paul Brown? Then, was the 
wagon going rapidly before John was pushed off or afterwards ? 
Who called 'Cut behind'? And whom did Paul beat — the 
driver, or John Jones ? And, lastly, when did the butcher lash 
Paul across the cheek — when he cut behind or afterwards? 
Your statement is not clear, and I cannot know much of it from 
what you have said." 

You and I may go over that boy's speech again 
and find how just his mother was in faulting it. 

Arithmetic teaches us to think truly and orderly. 
What do two and two make 

Whose rule is that Who made the rule } 
Our Heavenly Father. 

The order of God's Universe shows it to us. Two 
and two can never make anything else but four, here 
in this world or in any other world. 

You hear it said that ''figures never lie." It is 
because they tell a straight story all through from 
the lowest to the highest rules. Here is a curious 
story that figures tell ; it is called 

A Persian Puzzle. 
A Persian died, leaving seventeen camels to be divided among 
his three sons in the following proportions : the eldest to have 
half, the second a third, and the youngest a ninth. Of course 
camels can't be divided into fractions ; so, in despair, the brothers 



ORDER. 



lOI 



submitted their difficulty to Mohammed Ali. " I'll lend you 
another camel to make eighteen, and now divide them your- 
selves." The consequence was, each brother got from one- 
ninth to one-half of a camel more than he was entitled to, and 
Ali received his camel back again ; the eldest brother getting 
nine camels, the second six, and the third two. 

We may take eighteen pieces of paper for camels, 
and work that out for ourselves. 

III. Order is one of the virtues that may help to 
lead us into the highest goodness of life. If we 
consider that "Order is Heaven's first law," and 
that man is acting like his Heavenly Father in being 
orderly, we reach a very high thought. Dogs and 
horses and cattle are not orderly. Some creatures 
like ants and beavers have orderly instincts, but they 
do not have to think about order ; they simply follow 
their instincts. But for us to be orderly, we must 
think about what we do, and we must obey rules of 
order with a set purpose. 

Let us go back to the teaching of an earlier part 
of our lesson. We are to be orderly because we 
wish to be good and useful, and at the same time to 
enjoy ourselves. We do not wish to waste time in 
looking for things or in not knowing what is the 
next thing to do. 

At any time when we may be hurried or in danger, 
confusion would most seriously hinder us. 

Mrs. Careful tried to teach her two children to be orderly. 
She was very particular that they should not throw their clothes 
off too hurriedly and leave them in confusion on going to bed. 
Her daughter heeded the lessons, but the boy — especially if he 
was very sleepy — would sometimes throw a jacket here, and 
his shoes there, and his trousers some other where. One night 



102 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



they were sleeping soundly ; little Mary's shoes together in the 
right place, her stockings beside the shoes, and all her clothing 
just where it should be ; and this same night Robert's clothes 
were in as confused a state as they ever were. The house next 
door to them took fire that night. When the alarm was given, 
and the engines rattled up, it was hard to arouse the children 
out of the sound sleep they were enjoying. " Dress yourselves 
quickly," called out the father and the mother, " our house is in 
danger of the fire." Almost sooner than you could say " Jack 
Robinson," Mary was in with her mother, ready for any emer- 
gency. And when Robert heard her voice from his mother's 
room, he became more frightened than he was before, and ran 
in — S2ich a state / Why, he was only a little way dressed, 
because he could not find his clothes. He was not shod ready 
to run out on the cold pavement if it had been necessary ; and 
he was not decently and w^armly enough dressed to have been 
carried, unless they had put a large blanket around him. 

Let US learn a lesson from General IMcCleilan's 
experience. He was one of the very best army organ- 
izers that was ever known. When he was before 
Richmond with the great Army of the Potomac, he 
was attacked and had to retreat. The seven-days 
battles were fought while retreating. Finally he 
reached Malvern Hill with his army in good condi- 
tion, and there repulsed the last assault in that 
series of battles. If it had not been for the admir- 
able order into which he had put his army, it would 
have been cut all to pieces. 

Perhaps the best place to learn our lesson would 
be on board of a ship. Almost everything is carried 
on a ship, and there everything has its place and is 
kept in its place. What is it that a ship does not 
carry } She must have almost everything that is 
used anywhere. There is little opportunity on the 



ORDER. 



103 



sea of buying what may be needed. We find in a 
ship's stores provisions, water, paint, ropes, spars, 
lights, tools, boats, medicines, and — it would be hard 
to say what you would not find. Now, what disorder 
and confusion there might be ! But there is nothing 
of the kind. The cry may come, "Man overboard ! " 
Out goes the life-preserver with a little light affixed 
which is fired by the preserver touching the water, 
so that if it be night a man may see it ; and off 
spins the line from the easy-running reel ; then down 
drops a life-boat, manned by a crew, every one of 
whom knows his place and duty. There may come a 
sudden storm, and sail must be taken in quickly. 
Every rope is known, and what it will do ; and if 
ropes and sails are carried away, new ones may be 
had. There may be a cry of " Fire ! " The pump 
and hose are brought to use at once. The ship may 
be wrecked in spite of care. Boats and instruments, 
provisions, water, and clothes are made ready in a 
very little while. There is an orderly state of things 
to meet every emergency. Nothing like going to 
sea and doing the rough, hard, and dangerous work 
of a sailor, to make a man orderly. 

" Start Right" 

were the words in bold black type upon the open palm and 
extending out up the pointing forefinger of a hand, upon a highly 
colored placard advertising a railroad route, which was hung 
upon the walls of a depot waiting-room. No other couplet of 
words can convey a deeper meaning to our youth who are to 
travel the long highway of life toward an eternal destination. 

We recently saw a young girl on board a train, in the ways 
of travel unsophisticated, in great distress, because she was on 



104 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



the wrong train and was being whirled away in the opposite 
direction from the one she intended to take. All depends upon 
a right start. How much trouble is caused by a bad start, and 
how hard and mischievous to make amends, and try to undo the 
bad consequences of a wrong beginning I 

The other day we visited a poor man in his mean and 
slovenly abode. We asked why he didn't fare better, and have 
a better home, and more to do with. His reply, wrung from a 
discouraged soul, was big with meaning : " The only trouble is, 
I didn't start right.'''' 

We distinctly remember laughing in our childhood days over 
a picture in a Sunday-school paper. There was a rough, gnarly 
tree with a crooked trunk and half a dozen men with a yoke of 
oxen and a pair of horses, with ropes, chains, pulleys, and 
crowbars, all exerting their skill and strength to straighten 
that tree, but in vain ! 

A child was once asked why such a tree had a crooked trunk, 
and replied, " I suppose somebody stepped on it when it was a 
little fellow." Oh, beware of stepping on a youth in a moral 
sense, so as to distort his character for life! So many are 
rendered crooked and perverse in that way! How true the old 
maxim, — " As the twig is bent, the tree's incHned !" 

Once in building a very lofty brick chimney, a workman 
carelessly placed one brick near the bottom a little out of 
plumb (as the workmen call it), and as the work advanced and 
the chimney went up, the bricks over that one were set in 
accord with it, and it became more and more irregular, and " out 
of plumb," until one day, when it was about fifty feet high, the 
whole structure fell with a loud crash ! All the labor was lost, 
materials wasted, and several men killed, and all because one 
BRICK AT THE START was wrongly placed. So one bad habit 
or evil motive, as a brick wrongly placed in the foundation of 
human character, is often the cause of the demolishing and ruin- 
ing and suffering of a valuable life. 

Starting aright is the beginning of order, but it is 
only the beginning. As the bricklayer in putting up 
his walls must not only have the lower lines of bricks 



ORDER. 



105 



in plumb, but must keep the entire wall straight, that 
it may prove a good wall, so we must continue to be 
orderly to have our life a serviceable life. 

Life is a hard journey, not an easy one. It is not 
like getting on a train which runs directly through to 
our proposed end. It is a travel in which we shall 
have to change cars, and have to change from easy 
cars to rude coaches, from pleasant rails to rough 
roads ; and we must make the travel in an orderly 
way to get through as we should. We must start 
right, keep things in good order, and make the right 
changes. If we are not orderly, the changes may 
cruelly harm us. 



io6 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



VIIL — THRIFT. 

Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise ; 
Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, 

Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest. 
— Prov. 6 6-8. 

All the joys of sense 
Lie in three words : Health, Peace, and Competence. 

— Pope. 

Among the lessons we must study is that of thrift. 

I. By thrift is meant one taking care of himself, 
and making himself independent of others. 

While we are children it is a good thing to have 
parents or friends to take care of us ; we have no 
need to be ashamed of it, but every reason to be 
thankful for it. But it is a disgraceful thing for a 
grown-up person, who is in good health, to live 
dependent upon others without taking duty or care 
from off the hands or minds of those who support him. 

Let it be borne in mind, though, that girls and 
women may not be doing any work that brings in 
money, and yet in making home a beautiful and 
happy place they earn their right to an independent 
position there. They generally save an outlay of 
much money by industry and management needed at 
home. 

Jim Indolence was a hearty fellow of some nineteen years of 
age. Mr. Philip Heavylegs was a young gentleman some two 
or three years older. Jim Indolence was the son of a poor 



THRIFT. 



107 



widow; Mr. Heavylegs was the son of a rich man. They did 
not know each other, but they were brothers in disgrace. 
Jim Indolence had given up every situation his mother and 
friends had secured for him, because he was too lazy to find that 
any work suited him. He got up late in the morning, and, to 
kill time during the day, he sought the company of little boys, 
when they were out of school, and he would tempt some of the 
little fellows to become truants, that he — great hulk of a fellow 
— might have games of marbles with them. At night he kept 
older and very bad company, and always came home late, some- 
times drunk. His poor mother worked hard ; and a younger 
brother was faithful as errand-boy in an cffice, while a little sis- 
ter worked as diligently as her tiny fingers could in a factory. 
Many a time when he got out of bed, to find a breakfast wait- 
ing by the fire for him, they had all gone to work some two or 
three hours. This lazy creature was eating food which his 
mother, younger brother, and little sister earned. They had to 
pay rent for the room in which he slept, and to pay for clothes 
which he wore. Better for them if the good-for-nothing loafer 
had died. No one had the least respect for him. 

Mr. Heavylegs lived almost in the same way. He had serv- 
ants to wait on him. He had been petted and spoiled by his 
mother all through life. By all kinds of coaxing and rewards 
he had made his way through college, as the biggest dunce in 
his class, and now seemed to think that all his work in life was 
over. His father, rich as he was, went down to his business 
and continued to be of some use in the world; but Mr. Phil was 
a great useless fellow, living on his father, and his indolence 
was leading him into pleasures that threatened great evil to him. 
The world could never be any better for Mr. Phil living in it; 
he was — and so is every one who does no good — a burden to 
society. 

Jim Indolence and Mr. Heavylegs were brothers ; that is, 
they were the same kind of disgraceful creatures. One dressed 
meanly, and the other in fine clothing ; but that was about all 
the dilTerence between them. One puppy may be a mean, ugly 
little cur, and another may be a beautiful Prince Charles ; but 
they are both puppies. 



io8 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



11. As it may become our necessary duty to sup- 
port ourselves, there is a question that we ought to 
begin asking before we become men and women. It 
is, What occupation would I like to follow 1 We may 
honestly change the answer to it many times while we 
are growing up. One day a boy may think he would 
like to be a carpenter, and another day that he 
would rather be a farmer. The question itself may 
change into a higher one as he grows wiser ; it may 
become, What is the best kind of work I think 
myself able to learn } A boy may think that he 
would like to keep a book-store, where he could 
always be neat and clean, and have plenty of books 
to read. But he may find, in a few years, that by 
learning and diligence he can make a chemist of him- 
self ; and he may hope to write a book on chemistry 
for others to sell and many others to read. 

Let a boy go on changing his questions and his 
answers if he must do so. After a while, if he is in 
earnest, he will awaken to the fact that the two ques- 
tions have become one and the same, and he will get 
the right answer. He will find that the best thing 
he can learn to do is that which he now wishes to do. 
Then the boy or young man will have found his 
vocation. 

That word vocation is a very great word. It means 
our calling. 

The calling comes from the good and higher part 
of ourselves ; and as this is given us by our Heavenly 
Father, we say that our calling is from Him. 
What vocations can you think of just now } 
Those of the mmister^ the farmer^ the seanistresSy the 



THRIFT. 



109 



blacksmith, the storekeeper, the lawyer, the carpe7iter, 
the teacher, the physician, the cook (and any that pupils 
may name, subject to correction in the following part 
of this lesson). 

There is one mark of a true vocation. It is that 
the business will be helpful to others, that society 
needs persons to follow such a business. 

III. We have studied two questions that we begin 
to ask while we are young. Later on we meet a 
third question. It is this : What do circumstances 
permit me to do t 

John Ploughman was a bright young fellow who was left 
fatherless, and he had to take on himself the care of his poor 
mother. He had been a good declaimer at school, and a good 
debater in the village lyceum. He thought that he would like 
to become a lawyer, and was confident that he had abilities to 
do well in that profession. He saw what a noble profession it 
was when followed nobly ; how that it protected the poor from 
wrong, and sought to protect society from crime. But, with 
much cleverness, he had very little learning; and he knew young 
lawyers who had had to wait a long time in the village for prac- 
tice that would give them a living. On the little piece of hard 
land left by his father, it was work, work, work, from early to 
late. He could not desert his mother, and could not find time 
and opportunity to fit himself for the profession of the law. All 
he could do was to keep on working, be a farmer, and learn a 
little law so as to advise his poor neighbors in small questions. 
It is said, where there is a will there is a way. John Ploughman 
had the will, but he could not find the way for a very long time. 

It seems very sad when the answer to the third 
question seriously tries a noble spirit. One must 
call upon his courage and patience, and must submit 
to what he cannot change. 

III. Children prepare themselves for the duty of 



no 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



thrift by being helpful at home, and by learning all 
they can at school. 

There are a number of moral qualities needed for 
thrift, — truthfulness, which we have studied in a 
lesson, punctuality, industry, patience, economy, and 
perseverance. 

What is punctuality ? 

Being on time. 

One day a gentleman was stopped on the street by a shabby- 
looking man, who asked, " Do you not remember your old 
schoolmate Harry Brown ? " 

The gentleman remembered Harry very well, and that he 
was the son of a rich man. As he looked with surprise on this 
man's soiled and threadbare clothes, he asked, " Can it be pos- 
sible that you are my old friend Harry Brown 1 " 

" It is just so," said he. 

" Why, what has brought you to this state t " 
" Ti7ne enough yet., has brought me to it. I got in the way 
of putting things off when it was the right time to do them. I can't 
help doing it now. For the sake of old times lend me five dol- 
lars ; or else I must either go to the almshouse or starve." 

What do we mean by industry 
Being as busy as we ougJit to be. 
What do we mean by economy } 
Not wasting anything, and not spending 7no7'e than 
we shonld. 

What do we mean by perseverance ? 
Not giving tip. 

Here are instances of industry and perseverance : — 

The well-known story of Demosthenes tells how the great 
Athenian struggled with his stuttering speech and bodily awk- 
wardness, and conquered them by long and painful discipline. 
He overcame his stammering by speaking with pebbles in his 



THRIFT. 



I I I 



mouth, and his tendency to shrug his shoulders by hanging 
over them spears which pricked him at every awkward gesture. 

Sir Robert Peel had little which he did not owe to long, 
steady practice in his early days. When he was a boy, his 
father constantly exercised him in repeating sermons and 
speeches, and in extempore composition. This seemed tedi- 
ous to the pupil, but by attention and perseverance he gained a 
faculty which afterwards made him a useful and distinguished 
servant of his country. 

IV. We have learned that we should not be 
dependent on others. Independe7ice is a great word. 
It means that we are able to take care of ourselves, 
and that we are free men or women because we can 
take care of ourselves. 

The independence that comes with thrift gives us 
freedom from others, freedom from anxiety, freedom 
from poverty. And the right road to reach such 
independence is to follow a vocation, remembering 
that a true calling is always good, honest, and useful. 

Too many go into various kinds of business that 
are not needed, that are not of any use to society. 
Some try to make money by speculation, — that is, 
by guessing what is going to become cheap or dear. 
This is like learning a tricky and not having any plan. 
Listen to this story : — 

The Cat and the Fox. 

One day a fox met a wildcat in the midst of the wood. Ah, 
how do you do, puss ? " said the fox. " I am glad to see you, 
and hope you are well." 

" You are kind, sir," said the cat ; " I am well, and hope you 
are the same." 

"Yes, puss, I am in good health, but I own that I feel ill at 
ease. I feel that you, my friend, will not long be free from harm. 



1 12 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



I wish I could see my way clear to help you. But in these 
times " — 

" What do you mean ? " said the cat, in great affright. " What 
great harm to me do you dread ? " 

"Well, as to that," said the fox, "it might be harm to me, 
too. The plain truth is, there is a pack of hounds not far from 
this wood. Now, I have ten or twelve tricks — nay, I may count 
upon a score of tricks — by which I can get away from the 
hounds ; while you, poor puss, oh, what can you do that you may 
be out of their way ? What tricks do you know ? " 

" I know no tricks at all," said the cat ; " I have but one plan, 
and if that fails me, I shall be lost." 

" Poor puss ! poor puss ! " said the fox. " One does not like 
to see a friend in such a strait. I might teach you a few of 
my tricks ; but these are hard times, and one must not trust too 
much. It is but right to think of one's self — hark ! The 
hounds are in full cry ! You are a lost cat ! I have no time to 
tell you what to do ; I must be off at once." 

These words were scarcely out of his mouth, when he and the 
cat saw the hounds. 

The cat at once ran up a tree ; that was the only plan she 
had. 

The fox could not climb a tree, and he could not get out of 
sight. The cat saw the hounds kill him. 

" Ah ! " said puss. " I find that one good plan is of more 
use than a score of sharp tricks, and that one who will grudge 
aid to a friend in time of need may find when it is too late that 
none are so safe from harm that they can with good cause boast 
of ability to keep out of its way." 

Gambling is like trickery. When one wins a bet, 
or wins a game which is played for a stake, — played 
*'for goods," as boys sometimes say, — he takes 
something for which he has not given anything of 
value. When boys play with marbles or anything 
else, for stakes, it is the beginning of an evil 
which wrongs others and poisons one's own soul. 



THRIFT. 



If we are indolent, or too fond of play to do work, 
we should go to the ant to learn our lesson. 

An old fable tells us that a merry grasshopper chirruped away 
and hopped through the grass all summer as happy as he could 
be. A bee saw him and said, " Look out for the winter, my 
friend, or you'll starve." Then a hard-working ant saw him and 
asked him to give help in rolling along a big piece of bread which 
the ant had found. "Not I," said the grasshopper, " I'm no 
fool ; you don't catch me working like a slave with such lovely 
sunshine as this all about us." — " But there is a winter coming 
on," said the ant ; " and what will you do then, with the cold 
weather and the snow on the ground.^" — " Oh, I'll wait till it 
comes," replied the grasshopper ; " and besides, I never saw a 
winter, and I don't believe it is as bad as people say." Then 
away he jumped among the tall grass. But the winter did come ; 
the leaves fell, the grass withered, it grew very cold, and the 
snow came. Now the poor grasshopper had the rheumatism in 
his fine legs, and he did not know how he was to live. He went 
to the bee-hive and begged them to take him in ; but they said 
that they were full in there, and had no room for loafers. Then 
he went to the ant-hill and tried to get in ; but he was told at 
the door that they had no food to spare for those who would not 
work, and so the poor grasshopper had nothing to do but die. 

Some lazy ones seem to think that the industrious 
and thrifty ought to feed willing idlers. When these 
idlers are in danger of starving, let us do so. But 
such persons may be allowed to suffer some hunger 
as punishment for their indolence. St. Paul says, 
" If any will not work, neither let him eat " (Revised 
Version, 2 Thess. 3 : 10). 

If we do not wish to be despised when we shall 
reach adult age, we must remember what a great 
word is independence y and what mean slavery comes 
from dependence. 



114 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



IX. — CULTURE. 

Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth under- 
standing : 

For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and 
the gain thereof than fine gold. — Prov. 3 : 13, 14. 

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, 
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ; 

Chill penury repressed their noble rage. 
And froze the genial current of the soul. 

— Gray's Elegy. 

Our lesson is to be on culture. 

I. It is quite important that we should know very 
much about this word. It came from the work of 
the farmer. He cultivated land, and that was cul- 
ture. Agriculture we name his vocation when we 
wish to be precise. Culture, whether we allude 
to the farmer or to the duty we are now to study, 
means the same thing in words. Let us get the 
meaning by heart. It is to kill a wild growth and 
to get a good growth. 

The farmer ploughs up the sod and kills the 
weeds ; and he then sows good seed, that the rich 
earth may bring forth fruit in place of the weeds. 
All the work he does, in breaking the ground, fertil- 
izing it, sowing seed, and nursing his growing crops, 
is culture. We apply the word to a higher work, 
to the improvement of self. We wish to have a 
good growth in us, and not a wild one. 

When we read and think, when we study and 



CULTURE. 



learn, we are cultivating our mind. We are making 
our mind rich and planting seed, that the mind may 
bring forth fruit and flowers. Let us have a story 
that will show us what care we should take in select- 
ing what is good for our mind. 

A boy returned from school one day with a report that his 
scholarship had fallen below the usual average. 

"Well," said the father, "you've fallen behind this month, 
have you ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" How did it happen ? " 
" Don't know, sir." 

The father knew, if the son did not. He had observed a 
number of dime novels and illustrated story papers scattered 
about the house, but had not thought it worth while to say any- 
thing until a fitting opportunity should offer itself. A basket of 
apples stood upon the floor, and he said to his son, — 

" Empty out those apples, and take the basket, and bring it 
to me half full of chips." 

Suspecting nothing, the son obeyed. 

" And now," he continued, " put those apples back into the 
basket." 

When half the apples were replaced, the son said, — 
" Father, they roll off. I can't put in any more." 
" Put them in, I tell you, my son." 
"But, father, I can't put them in." 

" No, of course you can't put them in. Do you expect to 
fill a basket half full of chips and then fill it with apples ? You 
said you didn't know why you fell behind at school, and I will 
tell you. Your mind is Hke that basket. It will not hold more 
than so much. And here you've been the past month, filling it 
up with CHIP DIRT — dijne novels and silly stories I " 

The boy turned on his heel, whistled, and said, " Whew ! 
I see the point." 

The flowers and the fruits of mind-culture are 
knowledge and wisdom, ease and skill. 



ii6 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Remember, that we may have knowledge and get 
wisdom, and yet not find it easy to use our wisdom or 
to teach what we know. Culture is to give us skill 
as well as knowledge, so that what we know may 
be helpful to ourselves and to others. 

Here is what a gentleman observed of a wise 
spider and of his skill in helping himself, as it is 
given in Hai^per 's Young People. 

They All Knew How. 

I took a large spider from his web under the basement of a 
mill, put him on a chip, and set him afloat on the quiet waters 
of a pond. He walked all about the sides of his bark surveying 
the situation very carefully, and when the fact that he was 
really afloat and about a yard from shore seemed to be fully 
comprehended, he looked out for the nearest land. 

This point fairly settled upon, he immediately began to cast 
a web for it. He threw it as far as possible in the air, and with 
the wind. It soon reached the shore, and made fast to the 
spires of grass. Then he turned himself about, and in true 
sailor fashion began to haul in, hand over hand, on his cable. 
Carefully he drew up until his barge began to move towards the 
shore. As it moved the faster, he the faster drew upon it to 
keep his hawser taut and from touching the water. Very soon 
he reached the shore, and quickly leaping to terra firma, he 
sped. his way homeward. 

Thinking that he might be a special expert, and an excep- 
tion in that line of boatmanship to the rest of his companions, 
I tried several of them. They all came to the shore in like 
manner. 

II. In order to cultivate ourselves we must learn 
all we can, and we must practise what we learn. 

We shall not be skilful in applying what we learn 
unless we practise it. Indeed, without practice we 
shall forget much of what we learn. Practice 



CULTURE. 



117 



makes perfect." This is why we do examples in 
multiplication. After learning the multiplication 
table we would forget part of it, and surely not be 
ready and skilful in using it, if we did not practise 
the examples. A student who means to become a 
surgeon must learn how to apply bandages, and then 
he must practise putting them on arms and legs, that 
he may be skilled in doing so when he has to set a 
broken limb. Thus we must think about and prac- 
tise all our wisdom, or we shall lose the flowers and 
the fruits of culture. 

Killing weeds points us to a very important part 
of self-culture. We must give up a wrong notion 
just as soon as we learn that it is a false idea. We 
should not for one moment entertain the idea of 
ghosts when we learn that there are none. And it is 
not always easy to root out a weed that has grown in 
our mind. 

III. Without culture we should be ignorant, rude, 
and ugly. 

We read a story in which a boy gave up the happiness of his 
boyhood and all hope of a useful manhood in a foohsh and 
cowardly way. 

First, he overheard the horses, watching him at his play, 
from under the shady tree, saying, " Poor boy, he has only two 
feet ; how tired he must get ! " But one old circus horse, 
which had been turned out to die, said, " Oh, no ! he has four 
feet, but his mother whips him if he don't walk on two. I know 
how to pity him." 

Somehow the boy began to be ashamed ; so he got down on 
his hands and knees and tried to walk that way. He was very 
tired when he reached home ; but though his mother asked him 
how his trousers got so muddy and torn, he only hung his head 
and would not tell. 



ii8 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



One evening when he was out quite late from going on all- 
fours, the bats were flitting around, and he heard them saying, 
" Poor boy, he has to spend the best part of his time in bed. 
At night, when it is so splendid to be out, he has to be shut 
up." And the next day he heard the crows pitying him because 
he had to sit at the table and eat only cooked food. So, like 
the bats, he stayed out night, and, like the crows, he stole corn 
and ate bad meat. 

Of course, from never walking upright, from creeping about 
in the darkness, and feeding on this dreadful stuff, he grew 
weak and sick and miserable. But he would not go to his 
mother and friends for advice, but took himself off to the owl, 
who looked so wise. She told him all his trouble came from 
too much sunlight, and he must put out his eyes, or he would 
never be any better. So he put out his eyes, and sank deeper 
in misery. 

Of course this is a made-up story, and we say no boy would 
be so silly; but the man who wrote the story knew a good deal 
about boys and their dangers. 

If we are too lazy for self-culture we shall not only 
remain ignorant, but we shall listen to all the bats 
and crows and owls, and become ruder and uglier 
than mere ignorance is. 

Because- uncultured persons are termed vulgar, it 
may serve us to notice one sign of culture which we 
carry about with us. It is our clothing, if that be 
neat and not showy. It is more beautiful and re- 
fined to dress with simplicity than gaudily. We 
should wear no jewelry, rather than too much; we 
should certainly wear none that is mean and mere 
sham. As culture advances, people are leaving off 
jewelry on ordinary occasions. The time is coming 
when civilized women will not wear ear-rings, just as 
surely as the time has come that civilized men and 
women no longer wear nose-rings. 



CULTURE. 



119 



We may learn a lesson concerning clothes, appear- 
ance, and some other vanities of uncultured persons, 
from the fable of 

The Lion and the Young Lion. 

A young lion, fond of applause, shunned the company of the 
lions, and sought that of vulgar and ignoble beasts. He passed 
all his time with asses. He presided at their meetings. He 
copied their airs and their manners. In a word, he was an ass 
in everything except the ears. Elated with vanity, he betook 
himself to his father's retreat, to display his rare qualities there. 
He could not but have some that were very ridiculous. He 
brays ; the lion starts. 

"Puppy," said he to him, "this disagreeable noise shows 
what sort of company you have kept. Puppies always betray 
their stupidity." 

" Why are you so severe ? " asked the young lion. " Our 
assembly has always admired me." 

" How ill-grounded your pride is," replied the father. " You 
may be sure that lions despise what asses admire." 

A fool always finds another fool who admires him. It is not 
the approbation of such people that we should court, but that of 
people of mind, of merit, and of taste. 

It is only a part of our mind and moral culture 
that appearance shows ; and yet it is a sign of both 
or the want of both. 

The full idea of mind-culture — killing the weeds 
in our mind and cultivating a good growth — is to 
have instruction and education which increase our 
value. A cultivated farm is worth more than it was 
in an uncultivated state, and so a cultivated person is 
of greater value than he was before. He is worth 
more to himself and others. 

This education which will keep us from being 



120 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



ignorant, rude, and ugly, comes partly from books 
and teachers. But only in part. We must educate 
ourselves by observing and thinking. Much that we 
cannot get from books belongs to education. To 
learn a trade is to get education which makes us 
more valuable to ourselves and others. 

In the verse we have had, the poet Gray was sing- 
ing the praise of the poor and humble who had died 
and were buried in the village churchyard. He 
thought if they could only have had knowledge and 
the wisdom of culture, how much happier they might 
have been and how much more useful. This poem 
is one of the most beautiful ever written. The sad- 
dest note in its lament is that of this lack of culture, 
because of which the poor were ignorant and rude, and 
from which they suffered and finally died unknown. 

But now every one of us, loving learning and cul- 
ture, may get them. Have you ever heard of Elihu 
Burritt } He is sometimes called " the learned 
blacksmith." When blowing the bellows to heat his 
iron, especially at night, when his fire would give a 
brilliant light, he would study ; and while hammer- 
ing at the anvil, he would go over in his mind what 
he had studied. He learned forty languages. As a 
member of the Peace Society he travelled through 
our States and extensively in Europe. Everywhere 
he was respected and influential. The names of two 
of his books are "Sparks from the Anvil," and "A 
Voice from the Forge." 

IV. And yet there is a higher culture than that 
of intellect. Self-culture must reach to moral and 
religious culture. 



CULTURE. 



121 



When we come to the culture of our spirit, what 
weeds do we wish to kill there and to have their very 
roots digged up ? 

The evil dispositions in us. 

What is it that we wish to nurse into full growth ? 
Good dispositions. 

That is the highest cultivation of soul which leads 
us to wish that we may be like unto our Heavenly 
Father. Dispositions belong to our spirit ; and to 
work down the evil ones and train the good ones is 
man's true life and hardest work. But God helps us 
in that work, and it makes us like unto Him. 

Here is a beautiful story of a cultivated spirit. 

A poor Arab, travelling in the desert, met with a spring of 
clear, sparkling water. Used as he only was to brackish wells, 
such water as this appeared to his simple mind worthy of a 
monarch, and filling his leathern bottle from the spring, he 
determined to go and present it to the caliph himself. 

The poor man travelled a long way before he reached the 
presence of his sovereign and laid his humble offering at his 
feet. The caliph did not despise the little gift brought to him 
with so much trouble. He ordered some of the water to be 
poured into a cup, drank it, and thanking the Arab with a 
smile, ordered him to be presented with a reward. The court- 
iers around pressed forward, eager to taste of this wonderful 
water ; but, to the surprise of all, the caliph forbade them to 
touch a single drop. 

After the poor Arab had quitted the royal presence with a 
light and joyful heart, the caliph turned to his courtiers, and 
thus explained his conduct : — 

"During the travels of the Arab," said he, "the water in 
his leathern bottle had become impure and distasteful ; but it 
was an offering of love, and as such 1 have received it with 
pleasure. But I well knew that had 1 suffered another to par- 



122 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



take of it, he would not have concealed his disgust, and therefore 
I forbade you to touch the draught, lest the heart of the poor 
man should have been wounded." 

Let US go on, and we shall find even a deeper cul- 
ture of our spirit than that story shows. But right 
here let us ask ourselves, What kind of company 
must we keep to get moral and religious culture ? 

Good company. 

Of course we mean, by good company, choosing 
the wise and good for our companions. It really 
means more ; it includes having good books for 
company when we do our reading. So that we may 
be talked to, as it were, by the wise and good who 
have gone away from earth, and who made good 
books to please and instruct us. 

Good company is so necessary for our moral and 
religious culture, that St. Paul, in teaching us of the 
resurrection of the dead, quotes this piece of verse : 

Evil communications corrupt good manners." 

Good manners, which are good morals, are poisoned 
by evil communication with companions or books ; 
and we cannot be too careful to shun the corruption. 

John Purpose was a promising youth, and so highly esteemed 
that when he was quite young he was made the teacher of a 
class in his Sunday school. After a while he began to come 
late, and soon after that he stayed away altogether. What was 
the matter with this promising youth ? His friend the super- 
intendent found that John's way to Sunday school was by a 
corner near the fire-engine house, and that he was acquainted 
with some of the young men who spent their Sundays at thp.t 
corner, waiting for an alarm of fire, that they might run with the 
engine. They were a very wild set of young fellows. John 



CUL TURK. 



123 



would stop to talk with them, and that made him late at his 
class. Soon he became so fond of this company that he stayed 
with them all his Sunday afternoons, and that led to every 
night's comradeship with them. 

One night a banker was knocked down in a lonely place, was 
almost killed, and was robbed. Four young men were arrested 
and tried for this crime ; they were found guilty and sentenced 
to the State prison. They were all of this gang, and among 
them was John Purpose. His Sunday-school superintendent 
was by him in court when he was tried, and visited him in the 
prison. Young Purpose was very penitent, and confessed that 
bad company was his ruin. One day the friend was sent for to 
visit the young man, who had been taken sick and placed in the 
prison hospital. He went and found the poor fellow dying. It 
was a sad end. His friends took the body and gave it decent 
burial. But it was the burial of a criminal, one who but for 
bad company might have led a good and useful life. 

Here is a story which shows culture in its high 
moral aim. 

A Garden in the Heart. 

*'0h, dear! oh, dear! I don't believe I've got a single thing 
growing in my heart except great ugly weeds, mamma ! " 

Mamma had been having her Sunday-evening talk with the 
little ones, and when the others had gone to bed, Madge sighed 
out this pitiful opinion on her shoulder. 

The talk had been about the beautiful flowers and the ugly 
weeds which each little child is cultivating in the garden of the 
heart. Mamma had likened a spirit of love, gentleness, and 
modesty, to the dear little violets, harebells, and lilies of the 
valley, which are humble and delicate, seeking the shade. 
Kindly temper, helpfulness, and cheerfulness, she thought, were 
like roses, and heliotropes, and verbenas, or anything else 
bright and lavish of bloom or of sweet perfume ; while truth and 
perseverance and generosity are surely like grand trees of 
sturdy growth and wide-spreading shelter. 



124 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



But when she came to the weeds, what a dark list it was ! 
Ill-temper, envy, self-will, pride, falsehood, selfishness, vanity 
— ah, me ! No wonder the poor little gardener felt discouraged 
as mamma pictured the thorns and thistles and coarse un- 
sightly roots choking and enfeebling the tender flowers. And 
the very saddest part of it is that these weeds seem to come up 
of themselves and grow and thrive without a bit of care, in 
spite, indeed, of a good deal of stamping down. Sometimes 
they will spring up all at once, when you think you have quite 
killed them out, while all the time the flowers have to be 
patiently and carefully tended. 

Madge began jotting off on her fingers. 

"Pride — yes, I know it's pride when I feel ever so much 
better than poor Nettie Gibbs because I get higher marks at 
school than she does, when all the time I know she has to help 
her mother, and don't have so much time for study as / have. 
Self-will — that's when I think I know better than you, mamma, 
where I ought to go and what I ought to do, and want to have 
my own way and not give up. Ill- temper — yes, that comes 
along with the self-will — when Missie can''t have her own way ! 
Vanity — yes, indeed ; I was pleased enough when I went to 
Sunday school this morning and saw that my new dress was 
finer than Lucy Rand's, and that she thought so too. False- 
hood — I don't tell lies, do I, mamma ? " 

" No, dear, you do not ; but be sure not to let any little 
shoots of deception spring up about your studies, or anything 
else, for they strengthen fast into vigorous habits of untruthful- 
ness." 

" I'll be careful, mamma ; I have so many weeds growing, I 
can't afford to raise any more, I'm sure. Then there's selfish- 
ness — oh, dear ! I do like the best place at the study-table, 
and the biggest dish of berries, and I hate to divide my candy, 
and I hate to give up a comfortable seat and a good book to 
oblige any one. Nothing but weeds, you see." 

" Don't be discouraged, my dear little daughter. Any one 
so industrious at spying out her own weeds must surely find a 
way of rooting them out, and must have been, I think, quietly 
cultivating one lovely little flower called Candor." 



CULTURE. 



125 



" Oh, mamma, how can I make all the flowers grow in my 
heart ? " 

" You can only do it by the help of the great Gardener, who 
alone can plant seeds of beauty and goodness there. He waits 
to hear every earnest prayer for help. He will water the 
tender plants with the dews and showers of His grace, and 
beam upon them with the sunshine of His love. But you must 
watch continually against the enemy, who is always on the alert 
to sow the seeds of all evil. It is a warfare which must go on 
as long as life lasts, for the soil of human nature in these poor 
hearts of ours is much better adapted to the growth of weeds 
than of flowers, — to the fostering of evil rather than good. 
When we trample down a vile weed, it will be sure to start up 
afresh ; even if we tear out the very roots of some favorite sin 
or some cherished indulgence, some other will start up in its 
place." 

" So there never will be any rest from pulling up, or tramp- 
ling down, or tearing out, mamma ? " 

" Never, dear, till these flowers of the heart shall be trans- 
planted to the gardens of the Lord, to bloom in the brightness 
of eternal day." — Sydney Dayre, in the New York Observer. 

Above all here, we should take the boy Jesus as 
our example. In the picture of His boyhood we find 
Him in the Temple learning about goodness, getting 
the wisdom which belongs to the highest culture. 
Some persons do not read that sacred record as they 
should. They seem to see a smart boy asking the 
doctors questions to puzzle them. That kind of a 
boy is apt to be pert and ugly. There is nothing of 
the kind here. The doctors, or teachers, had rooms 
in the temple where they taught. The scholars 
asked questions of these teachers. Thus here we 
have the devout and holy Boy who wished to learn 
what the Rabbis were teaching of the law. He sits 
in their midst, and learns like other youths by asking 



126 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



questions. When He asks questions, or gives 
answers, they are " astonished at his understanding 
and answers." And after that we read that He 
" increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with 
God and man." 



PURITY, 



12J 



X. — PURITY. 

Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see God. — St. Matt. 5 : 8. 

Whatsoever things are 'true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever 
things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, what- 
soever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any 
praise, think on these things. — Phil. 4 : 8, 

THE Vl^HITE ROSE. 

Rose of the desert ! Thou art to me 
An emblem of stainless purity, — 
Of those who, keeping their garments white, 
Walk on through life with steps aright. 

— Moir. 

This lesson will be of purity. 

I. By purity we mean being clean in thought. 
That, of course, will keep us clean in speech. 

Purity is to our souls what cleanliness is to our 
bodies. In the twenty-fourth Psalm we read : — 

''Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord t 

" Or who shall rise up in his holy place } 
Even he that hath clean hands and a pure heart." 

This shows us that away back in the old Hebrew 
days, cleanliness and purity of heart were joined 
together in religious and poetic thought. We have 
seen in a former lesson that "clean hands" meant 
more than having the hands washed ; that they meant 
innocent hands, that is, hands pure of any wrong done 
to others. 

Let us recall some of the chief points we learned 
about cleanliness. 



128 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



1. Our self-respect requires us to be clean. 

2. Our health depends on it. 

3. We are not good company for clean persons 
unless we are clean. 

We learned also that there was a likeness between 
cleanness and goodness. This likeness may be seen 
more clearly now. 

1. Our self-respect requires "us to be pure in 
thought. 

2. Our soul's health will be lost without purity. 

3. We are not decent company for the good unless 
we are pure. 

There is one want of likeness between the body 
and the soul, that we must not fail to remark. We 
cannot do our work, we cannot play, we cannot even 
take a walk, without getting our clothes and bodies 
soiled ; but we may try to pass through life with 
clean souls. 

The soul that is immoral is an unclean soul. That 
simply means not clean, and perhaps that is not 
enough to say of it. If the soiling of immorality 
gets into one's very thought, and is grimed in there, 
that is, if one loves to think about doing anything 
that is wrong, and hates the holy laws forbidding sin 
— we can only use a horrid word, and say that he has 
a filthy soul. 

II. We must try to have fixed in our mind the 
very great importance of purity. 

The spirit, or the heart as it is sometimes called, 
is like a spring of water. No fountain sends forth 
clean, pure, sweet water, unless the spring is good 
and sweet. And it is as our heart is clean or unclean 



PURITY. 



129 



that our wish and thought and speech will be clean 
or unclean. From our body's heart, life-blood goes 
to every part of the body ; and from our spiritual 
heart issues all that we think, speak, and do. 

Let us read here words of our Lord Jesus Christ 
that are given in St. Mark 7 : 20-23. 

*'That which cometh out of the man, that defileth 
the man. 

" For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed 
evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, 
covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an 
evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness : 

" All these evil things come from within, and defile 
the man." 

III. There the very great importance of purity is 
set forth in living words of our Lord. We cannot 
mistake the meaning. Our only hope of a pure life 
is in being pure within. The important question then 
arises, — and as great as the question is, you should 
be able to answer it, — How do we get a clean heart } 

Our Heavenly Father gives it. 

The Psalmist's prayer teaches that, when he cries, 
" Create in me a clean heart, O God ! " 

Let us have a story that is sometimes told, but 
which we may hope is a wrong kind of a story. We 
will try to mend the story after we are through it. — 

The story is told of a little boy named Amos. His father was 
very much grieved at the wickedness of his son. One day the 
father said, " Amos, here is a hammer, and here is a keg of nails. 
Every time you do a wrong thing, I wish you would drive one of 
these nails into this post." 

*' Well, father, I will," said Amos. 



130 . THE RIGHT ROAD. 

After some weeks, Amos came to his father with shame, and 
said, " I have used all the nails ; the keg is empty." 

His father went with him to the spot, and there was the post 
black with nails. " Amos," said he, " have you done something 
wrong for each of these nails ? " 

" Yes, sir," answered the poor, shamefaced, bad boy. 

"Oh, Amos, how sad this is to think of!" said his father 
with sorrow. Then he added, " Why will you not turn about 
and try to be a good boy ? " 

Amos stood thoughtfully for a few moments, and then said, 
"feather, I'll try. I know that I have been very bad. Now I 
mean to pray God to help me to do better." 

" Very well," said his father ; " now, every time you do a good 
act or resist a wrong one, you may take the claw of the hammer, 
draw out a nail, and put it in the keg again." 

Later the boy came to his father and said, " Come, father, and 
see the nails in the keg again." 

When the father and boy reached the post and the keg, the 
father said, " I am glad to see these nails all back in the keg; 
but look, Amos, at the post, — the 7?iarks of the nails re7namr 

Now this is an interesting story, but it is not alto- 
gether a good and true story. The teller of this 
story made a mistake. If there was not a mistake in 
it, very sad would be the state of all of us, — children 
and grown-up persons. Let us see if we cannot mend 
the story. We are not like dead posts ; we are like 
living trees. If the father of Amos had taken him 
to a tree, which the nails would not have killed, and 
shown him the scars after the nails were drawn, he 
might have bidden him to hope that the life in the 
tree would some day fill up and hide all the scars. 
Sins do leave their hideous scars in our character, but 
the life which the Heavenly Father gives us clears 
them away. This life is that of the pure heart. 



PURITY. 



IV. But as there is much around us to soil our 
heart, there is another question we must ask, — What 
will keep us pure ? 

We hear impure words ; we meet bad papers and 
books and pictures. These will poison our spirit 
unless we are angered at them. The talking may 
seem witty and cause others to laugh. We must be 
bold enough, as well as pure, to meet an unclean joke 
with a frown rather than a laugh. 

We learned that it is sometimes right to be angry. 
If there is any time when anger is righteous, it is 
surely when any one would poison our spirit ; even 
though it be from thoughtlessness. 

Suppose we were very thirsty on a hot day, and 
some one should offer us a drink of lemonade. How 
very thankful we should be for it. But if we should 
learn that this lemonade had poison in it, would we 
not then be angry and throw the drink away t Even 
if the person did not know there was poison in the 
lemonade, his carelessness in putting our life in dan- 
ger would make us indignant. That is the way we 
should feel if one tries to make us laugh with unclean 
wit. Laughter is good, and it refreshes life, like 
wholesome lemonade on a heated day ; but to put an 
impure thought into witty words or a funny story, is 
to put poison into wit. That poison would sicken 
and might kill the high spiritual life we have from 
Him who made us. 

Then remember how bravely we should act in 
treating a bad book or an impure picture. If either 
be in any way interesting or laughable, it takes right 
honest courage to let it alone. 



132 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



The story of Ulysses teaches us something here. 

On his voyage he had to pass an island on which Hved three 
women with beautiful voices, and who could play most delight- 
fully on instruments. They were called Sirens. Their music 
had such bewitching effect on those who heard it, that mariners 
would land on the island, never go away, and so stay there until 
they died. The bones of a great number, who had been de- 
stroyed by listening to the music of these dangerous women, 
were strewed along the shores of the island. Now Ulysses 
knew all about them, and he meant to save himself and his men 
from being destroyed. Well, could they not sail on about their 
business and never mind the music No ; Ulysses knew that 
to hear that music would probably be fatal to them. Before they 
came in sight of the island, he told the men of the danger, and 
what he meant to do. And he did it! This is what he did. 
He got some bees-wax and softened it in the sun, and with this 
he filled up all the ears of his men, so that the song of the Sirens 
could not be heard by them. He had told them to bind him fast 
to the mast with chains, so that he could not alter the course of 
the ship ; and he bade them not to undo the chains or move the 
course of the ship, however much he might wish them to do so, 
till they got out of sight of that island. The wicked Sirens came 
down to the rocks when they saw the ship, and began to sing 
and play. They thought the vessel would come straight to the 
shore, like so many others had done. But the sailors could not 
hear a note of the music. When the Sirens saw the vessel going 
by, they were astonished. They tried all the sweetest songs they 
knew. Ulysses heard it all, and, poor man, he wished very much 
to go ashore. He motioned to his men to come and unfasten 
him. But they minded what he had said to them, and only came to 
him to make the chains tighter about him. — There are tempta- 
tions in life, from which we can only save our purity, by exer- 
cising the courage and the prudence of Ulysses. 

Some one tells us this: — 

" I once learned a lesson from a dog we had. My father used 
to put a bit of meat or biscuit on the floor near the dog, and say, 



PURITY. 



* No,' and the dog knew he must not touch it. But he never 
looked at the meat. No ; he seemed to feel that if he looked at 
it, the temptation would be too strong ; so he always looked 
steadily at my father's face. 

*'A gentleman was dining with us one day, and he said, 
' There's a lesson for us all. Never look at temptation. Always 
look away to the Master's face.' " 

In these wise words we get our answer to the ques- 
tion, What will keep us pure t We cannot be sure 
of purity and of courage to keep pure, unless we do 
that which gives us purity. As the Psalmist prayed, 
" Create in me a clean heart, O God ! " so we must 
pray to be kept pure. 

V. Honor is one of the highest words we use. 
Honor within us, a living principle of our life, is 
what we must have to be made pure and to keep 
pure. We shall find in us at some time the whisper 
from God, of honor. Honor is nobleness of mind 
and spirit. And we shall wish to get it as soon as 
we find that the Heavenly Father gives us some idea 
of what it is. The true boy and the true girl shall 
surely get the idea if they continue to pray, " And 
lead us not into temptation ; but deliver us from 
evil." That prayer will bring to us at some day, the 
whisper of our Father in Heaven as to what honor is. 

Honor is the true and strong manly virtue for 
every boy ; and it is the sweet, sacred, womanly vir- 
tue for every girl. 

Truthfulness, the most important, because it leads 
to other virtues. Truthfulness, courage, and purity, 
— all three combined, — plant Jwnor in the soul. 
We may know that we have honor, if we never wish 



134 



THE RIGHT ROAD 



to do a mean thing. We then have self-respect, and 
know that we deserve the respect of others. 

But let him that thinketh he standeth take heed 
lest he fall." Our honor may be wrecked if we allow 
our mind to entertain evil thoughts. Here is what 
some has said to warn us : — 

"Bad thoughts, if cherished, bhght virtue, destroy purity, and 
undermine the stablest foundations of character. They are Hke 
rot in timber ; hke rust in iron. They eat into the man. And 
when the process has gone on for a while, and there comes the 
stress of an outward temptation, down they go into a mass of 
ruins ! Ships go out to sea, all bright with fresh paint, their 
sails all spread and streamers flying, and never come back, — 
never reach port. Why.? They met a storm and w^ent down, 
because they were rotten. Under the paint was decay ! Just 
so bad thoughts and imaginations rot the manly oak of charac- 
ter, rust the iron of principle, slacken all the stays of virtue, 
and leave the man or woman to the violence of temptation, with 
no power to withstand the shock.'* 

Then let our ambition be to add purity to truth- 
fulness and courage, and to keep purity as a jewel 
within our heart. We must walk straight along about 
our business ; and our business is to keep all the 
good we have and to get better. There is a lesson 
for us in the story called 

Keep Your Eye on the Mark. 

A light snow had fallen, and the boys of L desired to make 

the most of it ; and as it was too dry for snowballing, and not 
deep enough for coasting, they thought it would do very well to 
make tracks in. Near by there was a large meadow, and it was 
proposed that they should go to a tree which stood near the cen- 
tre of the meadow, and that each one should start from the tree 
to the boundaries of the meadow. The proposition was assented 
to, and they were soon at the tree. They ranged themselves 



PURITY. 



around the tree with their backs toward it, and started, each one 
retracing his steps to the tree. After they had returned, they 
each looked back to see how straight the tracks were. 

" Whose is the straightest ? " said James AlHson to Thomas 
Sanders, who was first at the tree. 

" Henry Armstrong's is the only one that is straight at all," 
said Thomas. 

" Why," said Jacob Small, " how could we all contrive to go 
so crooked, when the meadow is so smooth and nothing to turn 
us out of the way ? " 

" How happened you to go so straight, Henry ? " said Thomas. 

" I fixed my eye on that tall pine tree on the hill yonder, and 
never looked away from it till I reached the fence," answered 
Henry. 

" I went as straight as I could without looking at anything but 
the ground," says James. 

" So did I," said another. 

" So did I," replied several voices at once. 

It appeared that no one but Henry had aimed at a particular 
object. 

They attempted to go straight without any definite aim, but 
they failed. Men cannot succeed in anything good without hav- 
ing a definite object in view. General purposes, general resolu- 
tions, will not avail. You must do as Henry did, — fix upon 
something distinct and definite as an object, and go steadily 
toward it. 

Our mark is goodness. Yes, our mark is the 
goodness that belongs to this life and the goodness 
which our Heavenly Father may give us after we 
leave this world. The goodness we get here is the 
beginning of the goodness that we are to have here- 
after. As we have hope of beholding and living in 
the presence of the purity of God, we purify our- 
selves even as He is pure. 



136 , THE RIGHT ROAD. 



XI. — THE LOVE OF THE RIGHT. 

And he said, That which cometh out of the man, that defileth the man. 

For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, 
fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, 
an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness. 

All these evil things come from within, and defile the man. — St. Mark 7: 
20-23. 

If Happiness has not her seat 

And centre in the breast. 
We may be wise, or rich, or great, 

But never can be blest. 

— Burns. 

A DUTY we owe to ourselves is to get within us a 
love for the right. This lesson is to be on the Love 
of the Right, and what we are now to study belongs 
to all that we have learned and all that we are yet to 
learn in Morality. 

A great man, Mr. Darwin, has told us what he 
took to be the mark which shows man to be distinct 
from the lower animals. His language is almost 
simple enough for a little child to understand him. 
This is what he said man has, above the highest gift 
to any other creature : The motives of conscience, 
as connected with repentance and the feelings of 
duty." 

Let us take to pieces what Mr. Darwin said, to 
have it made very plain, and then we may hope to 
understand and to remember it. The words he be- 
gins with are, "the motives of conscience." These 
words mean that man is not only moved by his 



THE LOVE OF THE RIFHT 



hunger, as is a wolf ; not only moved by what some 
one says to him, as is a well-trained dog ; not only 
moved by instinct, as is a kitten at play ; not only 
moved by natural love for his young, as is a mother- 
hen ; but he is also moved to think, speak, and act, 
by his conscience. That is what is meant when we 
are told that man has in him " the motives of con- 
science." Man has this wonderful gift which we have 
been studying, called conscience, and it moves him to 
think and to speak and to do something. Do you 
remember the story of Rosa and her dog Speck, 
which we had in the lesson on Character^ the Rights 
and Duty ? That shows us the meaning of this part 
of what Mr. Darwin presented as the distinction of 
man. 

Then here is another story from which we may 
learn the meaning of the words we are studying. 

Little children have often very tender consciences, and are 
perfectly aware when they have been "naughty." A little gi'rl 
one day said to her mother, " Papa calls me good, auntie calls 
me good, and everybody calls me good, but I am not good." — 
" I am very sorry," said the mother. "And so am I," said the 
child, "but 1 have got a very naughty thinkT — "A naughty 
what?" — My think IS naughty inside of me." And on her 
mother inquiring what she meant, she said, " Why, when I 
could not ride yesterday I did not cry nor anything, but when 
you was gone, I wished the carriage would turn over, and the 
horse would run away, and everything bad. Nobody knew it ; 
but God knew it, and He cannot call me good. Tell me, 
mamma, how can I be good inside of me ? " 

This was a child whose conscience showed her 
how bad had been her thought, her wish, her feel- 
ing ; and whose conscience moved her" to think, to 



138 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



wish, and to feel aright. The highest-bred dog 
could never have any motive of that kind. 

But we have only learned what is meant by the 
" motives of conscience." Remember the distinctive 
gift to man as shown, — " the motives of conscience, 
as connected with repentance and the feelings of 
duty." There is a touching story of the famous Dr. 
Johnson, which teaches us something about the 
motives of conscience, repentance, and the feelings 
of duty. 

Samuel's father, Michael Johnson, was a poor bookseller in 
Lichfield, England. On market-days he used to carry a pack- 
age of books to the village of Uttoxeter, and sell tliem from a 
stall in the market-place. One day the bookseller was sick, 
and asked his son to go and sell the books in his place. Samuel, 
from a silly pride, refused to obey. 

Fifty years afterward Johnson became the celebrated author, 
the compiler of the " English Dictionary," and one of the most 
distinguished scholars in England, but he never forgot his act 
of unkindness to his poor, hard-toihng father ; so when he 
visited Uttoxeter, he went into the market-place at the time of 
business, uncovered his head, and stood there for an hour in a 
pouring rain, on the very spot where the book-stall used to 
stand. "This," he says, "was an act of contrition for my 
disobedience to my kind father." 

The spectacle of the great Dr. Johrson standing bareheaded 
in the storm, to atone for the wrong done by him fifty years be- 
fore, is a grand and touching one. There is a representation of 
it (in marble) on the doctor's monument. 

Now, in Dr. Johnson's case conscience moved him 
to repentance and the feelings of duty. No beast 
could have any such feeling ; no mere criminal could 
remember through a long time any act of wrong. 



THE LOVE OF THE RIGHT 



A painful and fatal accident occurred in the Central Park. 
A horse ran away, drawing a carriage in which a lady was 
riding with her daughter. Both ladies were thrown out, the 
younger one quite seriously hurt and the mother killed by the 
accident. The horse was not frightened, but he was a vicious 
beast. Why did we not punish that horse for murder 1 Simply 
because he had no conscience. He did not know any better ; 
he could not be sorry for what he had done ; he could not per- 
ceive the awful result of his viciousness. 

There, perhaps, we have learned Mr. Darwin's 
mark of distinction between man and the lower 
animals. 

I. In our former lessons we have studied duties 
we owe to our body, that it should be kept healthful 
and clean, and also duties we owe to our soul. 
Now it is not always easy to pay duty we owe to our- 
selves or to others ; we must find something that 
will make hard duty easier than it is. That some- 
thing is what man may have and no beast can have. 
It is tJie love of the tnte^ the beautiful, and tJie good. 
(Get scholars to repeat and memorize the words in 
Italics.) 

We may put the three words, true, beautiful, and 
good, into one word, and say, the Right, Whatever 
is true is right, whatever is beautiful is right, what- 
ever is good is right. Then we may see that we 
ought to have the love of the right. Man can have 
that because he has a conscience. It is a man's 
duty to himself to have it. 

II. Let us see how the love of the right will make 
duty easier. 

We shall be able to turn away from temptation 
and do duty more willingly. 



I40 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Jack Hardy and Tommy Handy were playmates and friends. 
They had made an engagement to go out to the green fields for 
the next Saturday, and expected to have great sport. On 
Friday evening Jack was quite put out when his father said, 
" My boy, you must go with me down to the store to-morrow," 
and went on to tell him that a customer who was in debt to the 
father had no money to pay his debt, but, as he dealt in boys' 
clothing, wished Mr. Hardy to take goods in place of money. 
Mr. Hardy also told his son that he did not know what time in 
the day this business could be attended to ; he did not wish 
clothing that would not fit his boy, and Jack would have to 
remain down town, perhaps, all day. What a disappointment 
for Jack ! The boy loved his father and enjoyed being with 
him, but there was promise of great fun with Tommy Handy, 
and it would be rather dull waiting his father's convenience to 
visit a clothing-store, and he did not care very much for new 
clothes. It would have been ten times harder for Jack to go 
with his father to duty if he had not loved him. That true 
affection he had for his father took away much of the feeling of 
regret in having to break his engagement. 

Though the right is quite different from a father 
or a person, we may love it so as to take duty 
cheerfully. 

We may find reason enough for loving the right 
in its own nature. We are now learning again what 
we have before learned. Our Heavenly Father loves 
and commands the right because it is right ; and we 
are to love the right because it is right. 

A boy came in from a tramp with a friend on a dusty road. 
Of course he was soiled with the dust ; it was in his hair and 
eyes and mouth, and his clothes were full of it, and his boots 
were the color of the road. He was tired and hungry. His 
mother bade him to go at once and get himself thoroughly clean. 
But the boy wished to eat and rest himself first. Of course he 
preferred being clean, but he was not in love with the sweetness 



THE LOVE OF THE RIGHT 



141 



of being clean, and only went to do as he was bidden because it 
was his mother's command. How hard it was to obey her ! 
He would have needed no command, and, tired and hungry as 
he was, it would have been easy to have cleansed himself, 
if he had loved cleanliness for its own sake. Now there is 
nothing of the right but what we may learn to love it for its own 
sake. 

III. We have found that the right is the true, the 
beautiful, and the good. What then must the wrong 
be.? 

The false, the tigly, and the bad. 

That is what it is, and we should never love it 
when we know it unless our soul were poisoned by 
sin. 

But we do not always know the wrong, because its 
ugliness may be hidden. St. Paul says that " even 
Satan transformeth himself into an angel of light." 

A little fish swam down the stream to its mother with his gill 
torn and bleeding. " It didn't look like a hook, mother," said 
the crying httle fish, "but it looked Hke a pretty fly that was 
good to eat." The little fish came near being caught because 
the evil looked Hke something nice for his appetite. That is 
the way Satan comes a-fishing for us. 

Then we must get all the wisdom we can, and must 
strengthen our love for the right. 

IV. How may we strengthen our love for the 
right } 

I. The most important thing to do is to keep to 
our prayers all through life. If our spirit talks with 
the spirit of our Heavenly Father, there is nothing 
else that will so surely take out of us any love of the 
wrong. 



142 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



2. We must learn all we can about these duties 
we are now studying. 

3. It will help us very much if we shall read the 
lives of good men and women, and read no stories 
but such as are good. 

We had before us the evil of bad books, in our 
lesson on purity. Here we may find what is the 
test of a book. It is whether or not the book leads 
us to love the right. 

Books or stories which make us admire men as 
heroes because they are robbers or wrong-doers of 
any kind are bad books. Those which lead us to 
think that men and women who are only pleasure- 
seekers are to be envied, are bad books. 

V. We may see how beautiful a virtue the love 
of the right is, if we study the character of a 
hypocrite. A hypocrite is a very bad person who 
loves the wrong, and yet pretends that he loves the 
right. He does some good actions to make you 
believe that he loves to do them and in order to get 
praise and favor. He is the meanest and most 
wicked character we ever meet. This character was 
most severely denounced by Jesus Christ. 

The meanness of a little hypocrite is shown in a 
story called 

Company Manners. 

" Will you please sit down and wait a few moments till 
mother comes ? " said a little girl to two ladies who came to see 
her mother. 

" And will you give me a glass of water, Martha ? " asked one 
of the ladies ; " I am very thirsty." 

" With pleasure," answered Martha, and she presently came 

i 



THE LOVE OF THE RIGHT 



back with two goblets of water on a small waiter, which she 
passed to both ladies. 

*' Oh, thank you!" said the other lady; "you are very 
thoughtful." 

" You are quite welcome," said Martha, very sweetly. 

When Martha went out of the room, one of the ladies said : 
" This little girl is one of the lovehest children I ever met. 
How sweet and obliging her manners are ! " 

Let us go into the next room and see. Martha took the 
waiter back in the dining-room. 

" Me drink ! me drink ! " cried little Bobby, catching hold of 
his sister's dress and screwing up his rosy lips. 

" Get out, Bob ! " said Martha ; "go to Bridget." 

" Don't speak so to your little brother," said Bridget. 

" It's none of your business what I say," said Martha, tossing 
back her head. 

" Martha ! " That is grandmother calling from the top of the 
stairs. 

" What ! " screamed Martha back. 

" Please come here, dear," said grandma. 

" I don't want to go," muttered Martha. She, however, 
dragged herself up-stairs. Unwilling feet, you know, find it 
hard to climb. 

"Martha," said grandma, "will you try to find my specs? 
I am pretty sure I left them in the dining-room." 

" No, you didn't," cried Martha, in a cross, contradictory 
tone ; " you always lose them up here." And she rummaged 
round the table, tumbhng things over like the north wind. 

"No matter," said the dear old lady, seeing she would have 
too much to do to put things to rights again ; " no matter, 
Martha ; they will come to hand." And she quietly put down 
the newspaper for by and by. Martha left her and went down 
stairs with a pout. 

Oh, dear ! Where are Martha's civil, obliging manners ? 
Why, those are her company manners. She puts them on in 
the parlor, and puts them off when she leaves the parlor. She 
wears them before visitors, and hangs them up when they are 
gone. You see she has no manners at home. She is cross 



144 



777^5" RIGHT ROAD. 



and disobliging, and rude, and selfish. She forgets that home 
is the FIRST place to be polite in, — in the kitchen as well as in 
the parlor. There is no spot in the house where good manners 
can be dispensed with. 

Martha must have known herself to be a base 
hypocrite when she pretended to the ladies in the 
parlor that she was gentle and polite. 

There is a seeming hypocrisy that we fall into at 
times without knowing it. Susie Camden was cry- 
ing out against the cruelty of some boys who were 
worrying a poor dog, but she was quite pleased with 
a bird's wing that decorated her hat. She never 
thought that her pleasure came from the agony and 
death of a poor bird that was shot, not for food, but 
only for its wings. 

We have a fable to show this likeness of hypocrisy. 

" I wonder," said a sparrow, " what the eagles are about, 
that they don't fly away with the cats ! And now I think of it, 
a civil question cannot give offence." So the sparrow finished 
his breakfast, went to the eagle, and said : " May it please your 
majesty, I see you and your race fly away with the birds and the 
Iambs that do no harm. But there is not a creature so malig- 
nant as a cat ; she prowls about our nests, eats up our young, 
and bites off our own heads. She feeds so daintily that she 
must be herself good eating. She is hghter to carry than a 
lamb, and you would get a famous grip in her loose fur. Why 
do you not feed upon a cat ? " 

" Ah," said the eagle, "there is sense in your question. I 
had the worms to hear this morning, asking me why I did not 
breakfast upon sparrows. Do I see a morsel of worm's skin on 
your beak, my child ? " 

The sparrow cleaned his bill upon his bosom, and said, " I 
should like to see the worm who made that complaint." 

" Come forward, worm," the eagle said. But when the 



THE LOVE OF THE RIGHT 



worm appeared, the sparrow snapped him up and ate him, after 
which he went on with his argument against the cats. 

Susie Camden's cry against cruelty was not the 
speech of hypocrisy, though she did wear birds' 
wings; the wearing of the wings was because of 
her thoughtlessness. A base hypocrite is one who 
means to be such, one who pretends to have the 
love of the right. 

We have spent so much time on this character 
because the hypocrite teaches us that the love of 
the right is the real goodness. The hypocrite would 
not pretend to have it unless it were the real good- 
ness. It is the highest beauty of soul. No one 
would pretend to be ugly ; and when one pretends to 
be beautiful, the highest beauty is counterfeited. 

Let us then try to get this love of the right. 
We shall fail in very many duties without it. Some 
duty we may perform when it pleases us ; but the 
love of the right is to make duty please us always, 
even when it is hard to do it. 

Truthfulness, we learned, ought to be in our 
character like the mainspring of a watch, — the 
mainspring that makes the hands of the watch tell 
the right time ; only in character we need a main- 
spring that will not run down. The love of the 
right is very like what health is in our body ; it is 
health in the soul. 

Now we do not always think about our health ; 
we are not apt to think of it when it is in high per- 
fection. But it is health of body that excites us 
to play or to work, which enables us to eat our food, 
which heals a hurt and cures a sickness, and it is 



146 



THE RIGHT ROAD, 



health which gives us gooa rest and sleep. The 
love of the right is what God gives us as health for 
our soul. 

There is a little story which shows us what truth 
as the mainspring in character will do for us, and it 
may serve also to show us what the love of the right 
as health in our soul will do for us. 

When a witness goes into court to tell what he 
knows about a case on trial, the lawyers worry him. 
One lawyer, in examining him, tries to get all of the 
story that will suit his side of the case ; another, 
cross-examining, tries to get what will help his side. 
In this cross-examination the lawyer may work in a 
very cunning way, and try to get the witness to 
contradict himself, — to contradict something said 
to the first lawyer in examination. When a witness 
has hurt one side of a case on trial, the lawyer on 
that side will show, if he can, that the witness has 
been taught by some one else what to say. This is 
the story: — 

A boy twelve years old was the important witness in a law- 
suit. One of the lawyers, after cross-questioning him severely, 
said, — 

" Your father has been talking to you, and telling you how to 
testify, hasn't he ? " 
" Yes," said the boy. 

" Now," said the lawyer, "just tell us how your father told 
you to testify." 

" Well," said the boy modestly, " father told me the lawyers 
would try and tangle me in my testimony ; but if I would just be 
careful and tell the truth, I could tell the same thing every time." 

That boy found that by simply sticking to the 
truth he was saved from contradicting himself. Just 



THE LOVE OF THE RIGHT 



SO do we need that which will always keep us right, 
so that we shall work right, play right, and be kept 
safe from the contagion of sin. We do not wish to 
have our life contradicting itself — sometimes on the 
side of the right and at other times on the side of 
the wrong, as one or the other may please us for the 
moment. That which will keep our life from such 
contradiction is the Love of the Right. We may 
through mistake, or from thoughtlessness, or even 
because of weakness, get on the side of the wrong ; 
but our life with the love of the right will rebel 
against the wrong, and we shall get away from it. 



PART III. — DUTY TO OTHERS. 
I.— THE HONOR OF PARENTS. 

Honor thy father and thy mother ; that thy days may be long upon the 
land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. — Exod. 20 : 12. 

And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto 
them. — St, Luke 2 : 51. 

Alas ! when those we love are gone, 
Of all sad thoughts, 'tis only one 

Brings bitterness indeed ; 
The thought what poor, cold, heartless aid 
We lent to cheer them while they stayed, — 

This makes the conscience bleed. 

— Keble. 

We have seen that the first thing a very little 
child — a baby — learns is that he has hunger and 
thirst, and that this shows us we owe duties to our- 
selves. That is why we have been studying duties 
that each one would owe to himself if any of us 
should become a Robinson Crusoe. 

The next thing a little child learns is that there 
are others in the world. In a home with father and 
mother, and perhaps with brothers and sisters, the 
baby soon learns to know them ; and he also notices 
visitors. Wherever and by whomever a child is 
taken care of, the child begins quite early to know 
that there is somebody on earth besides himself. 
And then he begins to learn that we owe duties to 
others. 

148 



THE HONOR OF PARENTS. 



149 



The first duty in this class of morals is the Honor 
of our Parents. 

I. Duty being something that we owe, there is 
some foundation or reason for every duty. Now sup- 
pose some one should ask one of us why we should 
honor our parents, what answer would you make ? 

They are my father and mother. 

That is the simple reason, and the best of all 
reasons. It is in their relation to us that our duty is 
founded. 

But we do not stop to ask for the reason of this 
duty. Our honor of our parents would not be worth 
much if we did. To pay the duty is the inspiration 
of love. If we had no other feeling than the little 
chickens, who only follow their mother to be fed and 
to be warmed under her wings, we might wish to 
study out the reason for doing honor to parents. 
But we have the feeling of love for them which may 
be added to what Mr. Darwin said of man's superior- 
ity to beasts. 

One morning found little Dora busy at the ironing-table 
smoothing the towels and stockings. 

"Isn't that hard work for the httle arms.'*" a lady visitor 
asked. 

A look Hke sunshine came into her face as she glanced 
towards her mother, who was rocking the baby. 

" It isn't hard work when I do it for mamma," she said 
softly. 

II. The Honor of Parents calls from us three 
things : reverence, obedience, helpfulness. 

By reverence we mean the very highest kind of 
respect. 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



We reverence God. And because we esteem Him 
to be above our parents in wisdom and everything 
else, and to have a deeper love for us than even our 
parents can have, we reverence Him much higher 
than we do our parents. But our parents are next 
to God ; and we learn to reverence our Heavenly 
Father from the sense of reverence for our parents, 
or for those who take their place. 

When Washington was sixteen 3'ears old, he determined to 
leave home and be a midshipman in the Colonial navy. After 
he had sent off his trunk, he went in to bid his mother good- 
by. She wept so bitterly because he was going away, that he 
said to his waiting servant, " Bring back my trunk ; I am not 
going to make my mother suffer so by my leaving her." He 
remained at home to please his mother. This decision led to 
his becoming a surveyor, and afterwards a soldier. His whole 
glorious career in life turned on this one simple act of trying to 
make his mother happy. 

His mother did not ask him to stay at home, but 
his reverence for her was such that he would do 
what she wished without being asked. If he could 
have had love without reverence, perhaps he would 
have gone away quite unhappy ; but he both felt for 
her sorrow and respected her wisdom. 

Paul B. Du Chaillu, in his interesting and instructive work 
about Sweden and Norway, gives many incidents that show the 
simpHcity and refinement of country home life of the upper 
classes. He says the courtesies of daily life are kept at a high 
level by various quaint little ceremonial observances which we 
would long ago have impatiently discarded. One of these is 
the quaint and curious custom of delivering the possession of the 
farm from the father to the son by a special domestic ceremony. 
" The dinner being ready, all the members of the family came 
in and seated themselves around the board, the father taking, as 



THE HONOR OF PARENTS. 



is customary, the head of the table. I noticed an unusual air 
of soberness on the faces of those present. All at once, Roar, 
the son, who was not seated, came to his father and said, 
' Father, you are getting old ; let me take your place.' — ' Oh, 
no, my son,' was the answer. ' 1 am not too old to work. It is 
not yet time ; wait awhile.' Then, with an entreating look, the 
son said : ' Oh, father, all your children and myself are often 
sorry to see you look so tired when the day's labor is over ! 
The work of the farm is too much for you. It is time for you 
to rest and do nothing. Rest in your old age. Oh, let me take 
your place at the head of the table ! ' All the faces were now 
extremely sober, and tears were seen in many eyes. ' Not yet, 
my son.' — ' Oh, yes, my father ! ' Then said the whole family, 
* Now it is time for you to rest.' It was hard for the sturdy old 
blond, who had been chief so long, to give up ; but he rose, 
and Roar took his place, and was then master. His father 
henceforth would have nothing to do, was to live in a comfort- 
able home, and to receive yearly a stipulated amount of grain 
or flour, potatoes, milk, cheese, butter, meat, etc." 

It is hardly necessary to explain what obedience 
is. But let us stop to consider when it is easy and 
when hard. When is it easy to obey our parents t 

When it suits our wish ; or, wJien we do not wish 
to do something else than what we are told to do. 

General Havelock was a great soldier. Some of these days 
you should read what he did with an English army in India. 
He became the great man he was, fitted to be a good soldier, 
by learning obedience when he was a boy. Here is the way he 
obeyed his father when it was not easy. He was only some 
eight or nine years old, and was crossing London Bridge with 
his father. The father was met by some one with whom he 
had urgent business, and he bade Henry wait there for him. If 
it had been a pleasant day, the boy might have amused himself 
for a long time on London Bridge, but it was a cold day. 

The father's business with this gentleman was so important 



152 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



that his whole mind became absorbed in it. It was evening 
when he reached home. His wife said, like a mother, " Where 
is Henry ? " 

Colonel Havelock started, sayings, " Well, poor fellow, he's 
standing on London Bridge, and in this cold, too ! At twelve 
o'clock, I told him to wait there for me, and I've quite forgotten 
him." 

Jumping into a cab, the father hurried away, and found his 
son standing patiently at his post. 

The Rev. Dr. John Todd published an affecting 
story given him by another minister, and which 
shows the sad consequences of a disobedience. This 
minister said to Dr. Todd : — 

" I had one of the kindest and best of fathers ; and when I 
was a little boy, about six years old, he used to carry me to 
school before him on his horse, would help me in my little 
plans, and always seemed trying to make me happy. He came 
home one day very sick. My mother, too, was sick, and my 
two sisters took care of my father. In a few days he was worse, 
very sick, and all the physicians in the neighborhood were 
called to see him. When Sunday morning came he was much 
worse. As I went into his room he stretched out his hand to 
me and said, ' My little boy, I am very sick. I want you to 
take that paper on the stand, and run down to Mr. Carter's and 
get me the medicine written on the paper.' I took the paper 
and went to the apothecary-shop, as I had often done before. 
It was about half a mile off ; but when I got there it was shut, 
and as Mr. Carter lived a quarter of a mile farther away, I con- 
cluded not to go in search of him. On my way home I con- 
trived what to say. I knew how wicked it was to tell a lie, but 
one sin leads to another. On going in to my father, I saw that 
he was in great pain, and very pale and weak, with great drops 
of sweat on his forehead. Oh, then I was so sorry that I had 
not gone and found the apothecary ! 

" Father said, ' My son has got the medicine, I hope, for I 
am in great pain.' I hung my head and muttered, for my con- 



THE HONOR OF PARENTS. 



science smote me, ' No, sir ; Mr. Carter says he has got none.' 
— ' Has got none ! ' repeated my poor and kind father. ' Is this 
possible ' He looked at me, and seeing my head hang, and 
probably suspecting my falsehood, said in the gentlest tone, 
' My little boy will see his father suffer great pain for the 
want of that medicine.^ 

" I went out of the room, all alone, and cried. I was soon 
called back. My brothers had come home. All of his children 
stood around the bed, and father committed my mother to the 
care of the older ones. I v/as the youngest, and when he laid 
his hand on my head, he told me, that in a few hours I should 
have no father, that I must now make God my Father, love 
Him, obey Him, always do right, and speak the truth, and 
remember that the eye of God is always upon me. It seemed 
to me that I should sink. Then he went on and prayed for 
the blessing of the Saviour to rest upon me, 'soon to be a father- 
less child.' I rushed from the bedside sobbing, and wished that 
I could die. Then I wanted to go in and tell my father of my 
lie, and ask him once more to lay his hand on my head and for- 
give me. I heard some one say that he could not speak. I 
crept into the door of the room and heard our minister praying. 
Oh, how my heart ached ! I snatched my hat, ran to the apothe- 
cary's, and got the medicine. Hurrying back as fast as possible, 
I rushed to my father's side to confess my sin ; but I was hushed. 
All were weeping. My dear father was dead. The last thing I 
ever said to him was a lie.'" 

That was worse than Dr. Johnson's disobedience, 
for which he stood in the rain. It would take more 
than a shower of rain to wash away the guilty feel- 
ing of such a sin. And we find at the conclusion of 
the story this good man telling how that, after his 
father had been buried twelve years, he came home 
from college and stood over the grave and wept at 
the remembrance of the ungrateful disobedience and 
the lie. Yes, when he was a man and a minister, it 



154 



THE RIGHT ROAD, 



was still cutting him to the heart, for he closed the 
story to Dr. Todd with the words, "May God forgive 
me ! " 

Some of the commands of our parents bid us do 
certain things for ourselves. We are bidden, for 
instance, to dry and warm our feet ; or to get a 
lesson. We should be as prompt to obey them as 
when we are told to fetch something for a parent ; 
because reverence for parents gives us faith in them. 
We believe in our parents' wisdom, and triLst in their 
love for us. They know what is wise and good and 
right for us, and they will not command anything 
else. 

Helpfulness, like obedience, is very easy when it 
suits our wish. Sometimes it is as much fun as is 
play. The honor of parents is not very high if a 
child only gives assistance to a father or mother 
when it is no trouble to do so. Let us remember 
that children ought to help their parents in every 
way they can. They should be ready to do so with- 
out waiting to be asked. Prompt and cheerful the 
help ought to be. 

III. The love, out of which grows the honor of 
parents, producing reverence, obedience, and helpful- 
ness, may die away in our hearts. Self-love, if we 
yield to that, will soon kill all other love. 

An awful thing was said of a criminal by a young Irish girl 
in giving testimony in a court of justice. When asked some 
questions in reference to the prisoner, she repHed, " Arrah, sir, 
I'm sure he never made his mother smile." There is a 
biography of unkindness in that simple sentence. 



THE HONOR OF PARENTS. 



There are two or three stories we may try to 
remember. One of them shows the beauty of home 
with love and obedience. It is called 

A Happy Home. 

A PRETTY story about a German family discloses the secret of 
a happy home, wherein joy aboundeth, though there are many 
to feed and clothe : — 

A teacher once lived in Strasburg who had hard work to sup- 
port his family. His chief joy in life, however, was in his nine 
children, though it was no light task to feed them all. 

His brain would have reeled and his heart sunk, had he not 
trusted in his Heavenly Father, when he thought of the number 
of jackets, stockings, and dresses they would need in the course 
of a year, and of the quantity of bread and potatoes they would 
eat. 

His house, too, was very close quarters for the many beds 
and cribs, to say nothing of the room required for the noise and 
fun which the merry nine made. 

But father and mother managed very well, and the house was 
a pattern of neatness and order. 

One day there came a guest to the house. As they sat at 
dinner, the stranger, looking at the hungry children about the 
table, said compassionately, " Poor man, what a cross you have 
to bear ! " 

" I A cross to bear ? " asked the father, wonderingly ; 
" what do you mean ? " 

"Nine children, and seven boys at that ! " replied the stranger ; 
adding bitterly, " I have but two, and each of them is a nail in 
my coffin." 

" Mine are not," said the teacher with decision. 
" How does that happen ? " asked the guest. 
" Because I have taught them the noble art of obedience. 
Isn't that so, children ? " 
"Yes," crfed the children. 

" And you obey me willingly " The two little girls laughed 



156 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



roguishly, but the seven youngsters shouted, " Yes, dear father, 
truly." 

Then the father turned to the guest and said, " Sir, if Death 
were to come in at that door, waiting to take one of my nine 
children, I would say," — and here he pulled off his velvet cap 
and hurled it at the door, — " ' Rascal, who cheated you into 
thinking that I had one too many ? ' " 

The stranger sighed ; he saw that it was only disobedient 
children that make a father unhappy. 

One of the nine children of the poor schoolmaster afterward 
became widely known ; he was the saintly pastor Oberlin. 

Another story gives us the character and the 
beautiful action of a son whose father had died. 

" Is there any vacant place in this bank which I could fill ? " 
was the inquiry of a boy, as, with a glowing cheek, he stood 
before the president. 

" There is none," was the reply. " Were you told that you 
might obtain a situation here ? Who recomm.ended you " 

" No one recommended me," was the answer ; " I only 
thought I would see." 

There was a straightforwardness in the manner, an honest 
determination in the countenance of the lad, which pleased the 
man of business, and induced him to continue the conversation. 
He said, — 

" You must have friends who could aid you in a situation ; 
have you advised with them ? " 

The quick flash of the deep-blue eyes was quenched in the 
overtaking wave of sadness, as he said, though half musingly, — 

" My mother said it would be useless to try without friends." 

Then, recollecting himself, he apologized for the interruption, 
and was about to withdraw, when the gentleman detained him 
by asking him why he did not stay at school another year or 
two, and then enter into business hfe. 

"I have no time," was the instant reply, "but I study at 
home, and keep up with the other boys " 

" Then you have a place already ? " said his interrogator. 
" Why did you leave it ? " 



THE HONOR OF PARENTS, 



" I have not left it," answered the boy quietly. 
" Yes, but you wish to leave it. What is the matter ? " 
For an instant the child hesitated ; then he replied, with half- 
reluctant frankness, — 

" I must do more for my mother." 

Brave words! talisman of success anywhere, everywhere. 
They sank into the heart of the listener, recalling the radiant 
past. Grasping the hand of the astonished child, he said, with 
a quivering voice, — 

" My good boy, what is your name ? You shall fill the first 
vacancy for an apprentice that occurs in the bank. If, in the 
mean time, you need a friend, come to me. But now give me 
your confidence. Why do you wish to do more for your 
mother ? " 

Tears filled his eyes as he replied, — 

" My father is dead, my brothers and sisters are dead, and 
my mother and I are left alone to help each other ; but she is 
not strong, and I want to take care of her. It will please her, 
sir, that you have been so kind, and I am much obliged to 
you." 

So saying, the boy left, little dreaming that his own nobleness 
of character had been as a bright glance of sunshine to the 
busy world he had so tremblingly entered. 

One of the most remarkable stories is that told of 
a son of Croesus. You hear people say, " As rich as 
Croesus." 

Croesus was the richest man of his day; but riches cannot 
buy everything, and he had a son who was dumb, and no sur- 
geon of that day could cure him. Thus this young man grew 
up in the splendid court of his father without being able to 
speak a word. And then great troubles came to the rich king. 
His enemies, the Persians, defeated his army, and took himself 
and his dumb son prisoners. The soldiers who took the king 
did not know him, and one of them was about to kill him. 
Just note now what we are told about the power of filial love! 
The dumb prince could not bear the thought of his father being 



158 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



killed. His love struggled with his tongue, and it broke the 
string which tied the tongue, so that the young man cried out, 
" Don't kill him ! That is the king ! " 

One of the texts learned was of the perfect Child 
Jesus, perfect Child that he might become perfect 
Man. You remember the picture we had of Him 
learning from the doctors in the Temple. It is then 
that we are told of His honor for His mother and 
for her husband Joseph, in the text : " And he went 
down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was sub- 
ject unto them." 

Every child should read Cowper's beautiful poem, 
''On Receiving His Mother's Picture." 

(The teacher may close this lesson by reading 
Cowper's poem.) 



BRO THERLINESS. 



II. — BROTHERLINESS. 



And he fell upon his brother Benjamin's neck, and wept ; and Benjamin 
wept upon his neck. 

Moreover, he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them ; and after that 
his brethren talked with him. — Gen. 45 : 14, 15. 

Be loving, dutiful daughters and sons, 

To father and to mother ', 
And to save yourselves from the bitter pain 
That comes when regret and remorse are vain, 

Be good to one another. 

— Phoebe Cary. 

The Heavenly Father places his children on the 
earth in families. What persons do we usually find 
in families t 

Father and mother^ brothers and sisters. 

We may use a very great word in speaking of the 
nature of the family-tie : it is sacred. A sacred 
appointment of God is the family. 

The family-tie cultivates in our souls beautiful, 
tender, and holy affections. 

We should study, then, next to the honor of 
parents, the duty of brotherliness. 

I. Brotherliness is the sympathy with brothers 
and sisters, which comes from our natural love for 
them. 

If any harm should happen to a brother or sister, 
how would we feel } 
Very sorrowful. 



i6o 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



We would indeed be quite sorrowful, but the feeling 
would be deeper than sorrow. Sorrow is the feeling 
of great sadness in our heart, but if evil comes to 
one who is very near and dear to us, the sorrow leads 
to sympathy. That is, it awakens a feeling that is 
like unto the feeling we would have if the hurt were 
our own. 

If the evil should be taken away from a brother or 
sister how would we feel } 
Very glad. 

The gladness would be as if a good thing had come 
to ourselves. 

This is sympathy, feeling joy or pain with another. 
It is rejoicing with them that rejoice, and weeping 
with them that weep. It is our heart taking the 
same kind of joy or sorrow that has come to one we 
love. 

Charles Lamb and his sister show us this feeling. He was a 
noted literary man, who wrote poetry, and some prose so beau- 
tiful that it may rank with poetry. He had a sister, Mary Lamb, 
to whom he was tenderly attached, as every brother should be. 
When he was a young man and she a woman, a fit of insanity 
came upon her, and she stabbed her mother to the heart with a 
carving-knife. From that time Charles Lamb determined to give 
his whole life to her whom he called his "poor, dear, dearest 
sister." He was too poor to marry a wife and take care of his 
sister, and so he lived on with his sister for some forty years. 
He never allowed his work or his pleasure to interfere with his 
attention and devotion to her. She had many insane fits, and 
learned to know when they were coming on. When out of the 
asylum, she had the pleasure of helping her brother in literary 
work. They published together " Tales from Shakespeare," 
and some other books. When she knew that a fit of insanity 
was coming on, they would go together to the asylum. Charles 



BROTHERLINESS. 



i6i 



would take his sister on his arm, and carry her strait-jacket in 
the other hand, and thus they walked together through the 
London streets, weeping good-by, until they reached the asy- 
lum. Then he gave her into the care of the keepers until her 
fit was over. 

II. Brotherliness leads us to help and to comfort 
brothers and sisters. 

Jerusalem, the name of the Holy City, means the 
City of Peace. There is a beautiful legend which is 
given to show why the site of the city of such sacred 
associations was chosen. This is it : — 

There were two brothers who had adjoining farms. The one 
brother had a large family, the other had no family. The 
brother with a large family said, — 

"There is my brother with no family ; he must be lonely, 
and I will try to cheer him up, and I will take some of the 
sheaves from my field in the night-time and set them over on 
his farm, and say nothing about it." 

The other brother said, " My brother has a large family, 
and it is very difficult for him to support them ; and I will help 
him along, and I will take some of the sheaves from my farm in 
the night-time and set them over on his farm, and say nothing 
about it." 

So the work of transferring went on, night after night, and 
night after night; but every morning things seemed to be just 
as they were ; for though sheaves had been subtracted from 
each farm, sheaves had also been added, and the brothers were 
perplexed and could not understand. But one night the broth- 
ers happened to meet while making this generous transference, 
and the spot where they met was thought so sacred that it was 
chosen as the site of the city of Jerusalem. 

A little story of a rough and ignorant bootblack 
sets before us the very holy and tender work which 
brotherliness does in our heart. It is called 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Tim's Kit. 

It surprised the shiners and newsboys around the post-ofBce 
the other day to see " Limpy Tim " come among them in a quiet 
way, and to hear him say, — 

" Boys, I want to sell my kit. Here's two brushes, a hull 
box of blacking, a good stout box, and the outfit goes for two 
shillin's." 

" Goin' away, Tim ? " queried one. 

" Not 'zactly, boys, but I want a quarter the awfullest kind, 
just now." 

" Goin' on a 'scursion ? " asked another. 

" Not to-day, but I must have a quarter," he answered. 

One of the lads passed over the change and took the kit, and 
Tim walked straight to the counting-room of a daily paper, put 
down the money, and said, — 

" I guess I kin write it if you'll give me a pencil." 

With slow-moving fingers he wrote a death notice. It went 
into the paper almost as he wrote it, but you may not have seen 
it. He wrote : 

" Died — Litul Ted — of scarlet fever ; aged 3 yeres. Funeral 
to-morrer, gon up to Hevin ; left one bruther." 

" Was it your brother ? " asked the cashier. 

Tim tried to brace up, but he couldn't. The big tears came 
up, his chin quivered, and he pointed to the notice on the 
counter, and gasped : 

"I — I had to sell my kit to do it, b — but he had his arms 
aroun' my neck when he d — died ! " 

He hurried away home, but the news went to the boys, and 
they gathered in a group and talked. Tim had not been home 
an hour before a barefooted boy left the kit on the door-step, 
and in the box was a bouquet of flowers, which had been pur- 
chased in the market by pennies contributed by the crowd of 
ragged but big-hearted urchins. 

III. We get love for parents and for brothers and 
sisters from our Heavenly Father. It is a natural 
gift. But we must cultivate it, or it may die. 



BRO THERLINESS. 



The way to cultivate brotherly love is always to 
mind it, to do what it bids us do. We should not 
allow any evil feeling like impatience or anger or 
jealousy — all of which are weeds in us — to choke 
its growth. 

" Mother," said Mary, " I can't make Henry put his figures 
as I tell him." 

" Be patient, my dear, and do not speak so sharply." 

" But he won't let me tell him how to put the figures; and he 
does not know how to do it himself," said Mary, very pettishly. 

" Well, my dear, if your brother Henry won't learn a lesson 
in figures, suppose you try to teach him one in patience. This 
is hard to teach, and harder to learn than any lesson in figures, 
and perhaps when you have learned this, the other will be easier 
to both of you." 

Mary hung her head, for she felt that it was a shame to any 
little girl to be fretted by such a little thing, or, indeed, by any- 
thing ; and she began to think that, perhaps, she deserved to be 
blamed as well as Henry. 

Self-love, if it rules us, as was said in our last les- 
son, may kill any sacred love. Here is a report of a 
small boy who was in a fair way to kill his holy love. 

Little Johnnie and Mary were sitting on an ottoman in rather 
close quarters. Both realized the crowded situation of affairs, 
and it was finally righted by Johnnie, who said, " Mary, there 
would be more room for me on this ottoman if one of us was to 
get off," 

We have a short story given by a Mohammedan, a 
half-heathen, which shows us that at one time his 
brotherliness was almost dead. 

" It was my custom in my youth," says a celebrated Persian 
writer, "to rise from my sleep to watch, pray, and read the 
Koran. One night, as I was thus engaged, my father, a man of 



164 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



practised virtue, awoke. " Behold," said I to him, " thy other 
children are lost in irreligious slumber, while I alone am awake 
to praise God." — "Son of my soul," said he, "it is better to 
sleep than to wake and remark the faults of thy brethren." 

We sometimes find a boy or a girl without any 
brother or sister, and the way such a child gets broth- 
erliness is from strong attachment to a playmate. 
The holy desire for society, for companionship with 
some one like one's own self, leads to a fondness for 
a playmate, that becomes very like the love for a 
brother. 

IV. There is a part of this subject that we shall 
more than glance at here, although it belongs to our 
future study. The family-tie teaches us duty to 
persons outside of our family. 

All the people in the world are the children of our 
Heavenly Father. We may therefore expect to find 
after a while that duty to brothers and sisters will 
become duty to all persons. We are put here in 
families, that we may cultivate a tender spirit, and 
become true members of society. A very beautiful 
story by Dr. Alexander Macleod pictures one awak- 
ening to this truth in late manhood life. 

In the days of the great King Agathos, many wonderful 
things took place. Young men saw visions, and old men 
dreamed dreams. Many that were poor became rich ; many 
that were rude became gentle ; and towns and villages that were 
almost deserted and in ruins were rebuilt and filled with happy 
crowds. 

Just on the outskirts of this great king's kingdom, in a hol- 
low among lofty hills, lay one of those ruined villages. Every- 
thing in it had a broken-down and decaying look. The houses 
were old and mean and bare ; grass grew upon the streets, and 
the inhabitants were ignorant and sad and poor. 



BR 0 THERLINESS. 



One morning in early spring a stranger entered this village. 
It was noticed that he walked from one end of the main street 
to the other, looking to this side and to that, at the houses ; but 
more eagerly still into the faces of the people who were passing by. 

The laborers began to come out from their homes to go into 
the fields ; the stranger examined every face as it passed. A 
little while after, the young women came out to the wells for 
water ; the stranger went up to these and questioned them one 
by one. By and by he turned aside to a blind old man, who sat 
at his door to enjoy the heat of the morning sun, and he put 
many questions to him, but neither the old man nor the young 
women could give him the information he wished. A look of 
distress and disappointment came into his face. The villagers 
saw him turning away into a back street that had long since 
been deserted. Then they noticed that he sat down on the 
stones of an old wall, with his face towards a roofless cottage, 
which had neither window nor fireplace nor door. This was the 
cottage in which the stranger was born, and in which he had 
spent his early years. As he sat gazing on its ruins, the old 
forms he had known so well in his boyhood seemed to come 
back again. He saw his father working among the flower-beds 
in the garden, and his mother, now knitting and now cooking, 
beside the kitchen fire. The very laughter of his brother and 
sisters, as he had so often heard it long ago, seemed to come 
back again and fill his ears like a song. And there came back 
also the memory of a day when that laughter was stilled, and, 
along with that, the form of a beautiful sister, who on that day 
was carried out to her grave. Tears began to trickle down his 
cheeks. 

And then, one of the strange things I mentioned at the out- 
set happened. Behind the cottage rose up the great sides of 
the hills among which the village was nestled. Far up, the 
shepherds' huts could be seen like little dots scattered here and 
there, and in the green pastures, flocks of sheep. As the 
stranger was gazing across the roofless and broken walls of his 
early home, his ear caught little snatches of a song which some 
one was singing among the hills behind. Then he beheld the 
singer — a little girl — stepping down, as if she were coming 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



from the shepherds' huts. Her feet were bare, but she stepped 
downwards as if she had wings. Her yellow hair was blown 
out behind her with the wind. She was coming directly to the 
stranger, and almost before he knew, she was at his side, and 
singing the song he had heard : — 

" Friend and brother wouldst thou find ? 
Hearts of love around thee bind.? 
Be thyself a heart of home ; 
To gentle hearts, hearts gentle come." 

Then she stopped singing, and fixing her eyes earnestly on him, 
said, "You are in pain, my brother?" And although she was 
but a little child, and one he did not remember to have seen 
before, the stranger could not help opening his heart to her. 

" I have come from the most distant shores of our king's 
country to find my brother and sisters, and they are not here. 
When I left this village I was poor. I am now rich, and would 
share my riches with them, if I could but find them." 

While the stranger was speaking the little girl seemed to 
grow more and more beautiful. Her eyes shone like bits of the 
blue of the sky, and sent their glance into his very soul. As 
the morning sunlight fell on her hair, it seemed like a crown of 
gold around her head. And then, as she stood before him there, 
in her exceeding beauty, it flashed upon him that somewhere or 
other in other years he must have seen that face. And then, in 
a moment more, he knew that this was the very face of the dear 
sister who had died. Then she said, " Come with me, your 
brother and sisters are found." 

She took him by the hand and led him back into the main 
street of the village, and said, " Do you see that blind old man 
whom you questioned ? That is your father." 

" But my father is dead these many years." 

Without stopping to answer him, the beautiful child went on : 
" Do you see those yonng women you spoke to coming from the 
wells with water ? They are your sisters." 

But my sisters must be old and gray-headed now." 

And once more, without replying to him, the child said, 
" Do you see those laborers in the field, whose faces you looked 
into so eagerly They are your brothers." 



BR 0 THERLINESS. 



" But I had only one brother." 

While he was saying this, the children began to go past to 
school. 

" And there," exclaimed his young companion, pointing to 
them, "are your children." 

The stranger was perplexed. Everything about him seemed 
to swim in the morning light. The children, the young women, 
the laborers, and the blind old man appeared as if they were 
drawn up into the light, and into the same light the beautiful 
form of his child sister also passed, smiling towards her brother 
with a tender grace, and singing her gentle song. And then 
everything disappeared. 

When he came to himself, he was still sitting on the stones 
of the broken wall. The roofless cottage was on the other side 
of the way, but the little girl was gone. And from where he 
sat he could see neither children nor grown-up people of the 
village. 

He was never quite certain about what had taken place. 
Sometimes he fancied he had fallen asleep and had dreamed a 
happy dream. Sometimes it seemed as if he had seen a vision, 
and as if the beautiful child stepping down the hillside with her 
song and her words of teaching had been real. But nobody 
else had seen her, and the shepherds in the huts did not know 
such a child. But whether what he saw and heard was real, or 
only a dream, it was the turning point of life to the rich 
stranger. 

The song of the fair-haired child took possession of his 
heart, and by means of it God changed his heart and made it 
gentle and neighborly, and the hght of the neighborly heart 
came into his eyes, and he saw in the ruined village a new world, 
and new duties there for himself. Long afterwards he used to 
tell that he saw that day what John had seen in the isle of Pat- 
mos, — "a new heaven and a new earth." He knelt beside the 
ruined cottage, and lifted up his heart to God, and said, " Oh, 
my Father, let the heart that was in Thy Son Jesus be also in 
me ! All that I have is thine ; from Thee it came, to Thee it 
shall return. Help me to fulfil Thy will." 

He rose up a new man. He said to himself, " I will abide in 



i68 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



this village, and build up its ruined walls, and make the people 
of it the sharers of my wealth." 

So he abode in the village, and he became a neighbor to old 
and young. The inhabitants became his children, and his broth- 
ers and sisters and his parents. And hght arose in their dwell- 
ings, and prosperity came back into their streets, and songs to 
their hps. The rich man was happy, and the poor were blessed ; 
and in his old age, when young people were setting out in hfe, 
and came up to him for his blessing, he used to repeat to them 
the song which the fair-haired child of his vision had sung to 
him, and call it " the secret of a happy hfe." 

Long years have passed since those things took place. The 
ruined village is now a large and prosperous city ; but in the 
centre of it stands to this day a granite cross with the portrait 
of a beautiful child cut on the stem, and underneath the words 
of the song : — 

" Friend and brother wouldst thou find ? 

Hearts of love around thee bind? 

Be th3-self a heart of home ; 

To gentle hearts, hearts gentle come." 

That is the monument of the rich stranger who shared his 
riches with the people of the ruined village. His name is un- 
known, but in the histories of tlie city you will find that the 
founder of its prosperity is described as "the man with the 
neighborly heart." 

The text at the head of our lesson gives us a beau- 
tiful picture of Joseph. It shows how strong was his 
love for his brothers after they had treated him badly 
and sold him into the slavery which brought him to 
Egypt. 

(The teacher may refer to the cases of Cain and 
Abel and of Jacob and Esau, showing that envy and 
jealousy kill brotherliness ; and may use the story 
of Joseph and his brethren both to show the same 
sad result and also the beautiful and happy outcome 
of brotherly love.) 



PATRIOTISM. 



169 



III. — PATRIOTISM. 

When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice : but when the 
wicked beareth rule, the people mourn. — Prov. 29 : 2. 

Breathes there the man with soul so dead. 
Who never to himself hath said, 
This is my own, my native land ? 

~ Scott, 

Sail on, O Ship of State ! 
Sail on, O Union, strong and great! 
Humanity, with all its fears, 
With all the hopes of future years. 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate. 

— Longfellow. 

After brotherliness we are to study patriotism. 

I. Patriotism is love for our land and nation. It 
is love of our people which makes us proud when 
the nation is right and does a noble thing, and 
ashamed if any disgrace should come to it. 

Patriotism comes next to brotherliness in our les- 
sons, because the nation is like the family. It is a 
larger family to which we belong. Cicero said, "The 
first society is in marriage, then in a family, then in 
a state." 

And then the land also is like our home ; it is a 
home larger than our house. We love our land as 
well as its people, because it is like a house in which 
we have been born, have played, and have been 
taught. If a citizen has not been born here, the land 
is to him like a better house into which he has re- 
moved from an old one. 



I/O 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



II. Our nation is like unto other nations in some 
aspects. Just as families are like their neighbors in 
some things, and unlike them in other matters, so it 
is with nations. 

In order to learn what kind of a nation ours is, we 
must look at features of our government which make 
it unlike that of most nations. 

I. Our nation is a Democratic Republic. It is 
republican, and it is democratic. Republican means 
that the government is for the people, or belongs to 
the people. Democratic means that the government 
is by the people. Thus we see that both words be- 
long together in showing what kind of a nation we 
are ; they indicate a government of the people, by 
the people, and for the people. 

Sometimes the State is called the Commonwealth. 
This name means that offices, privileges, and the 
wealth and the power of the State are common 
property, that they do not belong only to the officers 
or to any class of people. It means more, — that 
liberty and right and justice belong to us all in such 
a way as to make us defenders of our own rights 
when we uphold the rights of others. 

What is the birthday of our liberty and independ- 
ence } 

The Fourth of Jidy. 

What great act did our Congress adopt and sign 
on that day 

The Declaration of Independence. 

Our forefathers in this land were denied liberty, 
right, and justice, by England, the mother country, 
and they fought for these precious things and won 
their fight. 



PATRIOTISM. 



171 



The spirit which led our forefathers to rebel, and 
to fight through the eight-years war of the Revolu- 
tion, speaks to us in the Declaration of Independence. 
Here is an incident which shows us what that spirit 
was. 

The boys of Boston, just as the war was on the eve of begin- 
ning, were disturbed in their play on the Boston Common by 
the British soldiers quartered there. They went in a body to 
the British general, and told him that his soldiers pulled down 
their snow-hills and broke the ice on their pond ; and, further, 
that when they complained, these soldiers only laughed and 
sneered at them. The general thundered out at them, " What ! 
these are lessons of rebellion that your fathers teach you, I sup- 
pose." The leader of the boys, not a bit frightened at the great 
and powerful "red-coat," replied, "No one taught us, no one 
sent us here; but we're Yankees, — Yankees, and the Yankees 
know their rights. We've always kept within our bounds, away 
from the camp, and that is our place to play." The general 
could not but admire courage, and so he said, " Go, my brave 
boys, and my soldiers shall not disturb you any more." But as 
they left him, he said, " Even the very children strike for freedom 
in this land." 

That was the spirit of the fathers and of the 
children. The children had caught it from their 
fathers, in overhearing the political talk of the times. 

2. Our nation is made up of people from nearly 
all other lands ; and yet we consider ourselves to be 
but one great family. We have people of English, 
Irish, German, French, African, and other families ; 
all owning the same home and having common rights. 

In such a country as Germany nearly all persons 
are some kind of cousins to one another. Here, as 
nowhere else in the. world, tJie brothcj^Jiood of man 
is shown by the people of so many nations coming 



1/2 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



together into one nation. In the old nations we may 
find their growth to have been from a tribe increas- 
ing to become a great tribe ; or in some instances two 
or more tribes that were related joined together; or 
sometimes one tribe conquering another joined the 
defeated tribe to itself. But we are trying to make 
a nation of people from almost every race of men 
the world over. 

3. We have no church or religion supported by the 
State. We have "a free Church in a free State." 

III. There are many advantages, but also some 
dangers to watch against, in the kind of a nation that 
we are making. 

1. Every male citizen has his voice, that is a vote, 
in the making and the working of our government. 
Of course this is a great advantage. It takes away 
from every one any excuse for plotting against the 
government. The danger is, that sometimes and in 
some places, the votes of the ignorant and the bad 
may order public acts that will be wrong. It is only 
when a man is so bad as to get in prison, that he 
loses the privilege of voting. We have suffered in 
some places by corrupted voters massing themselves 
together and placing unworthy men in office who 
have robbed the Commonwealth and made bad laws. 

2. The fact that we are a nation made up of peo- 
ple from almost every part of the world has serious 
danger in it. We not only get what is good from 
other lands, but we also find the vicious habits of 
other lands brought here. 

But, notwithstanding these and other dangers, we 
may say to all the world that we think our govern- 



PATRIOTISM. 



ment is the best there is on the earth, and that there 
can be no government that is without dangers. 

IV. The duty of patriotism lays solemn obliga- 
tions on us. 

1. Every one who has the right to vote should 
always do so, and as wisely as he can. 

Let us recall the text at the head of our lesson. 
Then let us be wafned that in the rule of the people 
the majority of our voters must vote as patriots and 
not as mere partisans, or the whole people will have 
cause to mourn. 

2. We should study what is for the public good ; 
and we should give a helping hand to efforts which 
will benefit society whenever we can. 

3. We should serve our country when and where 
she needs us ; being willing to die for her if pa- 
triotism demands it. 

Dr. Thomas E. Bond of Baltimore, a man who weighed his 
words and meant what he said, was writing of the great sorrow 
of his heart just before the Civil War opened. He said that if 
shooting him dead would give quiet to the land and assure 
peace, he would wilhngly go out and be shot down. That is the 
true spirit of patriotism. He did not know then how many 
thousands would have to be shot down to bring peace ; and one 
life was a paltry offering compared with the great number which 
were sacrificed, but it was all he had to offer. 

The great EngHsh sailor, Lord Nelson, in winning his famous 
naval victory against the French, was fatally wounded. While 
dying he said over and over again, *' Thank Heaven, I have done 
my duty." 

4. Women, while they do not vote, have as deep 
concern in public affairs as men ; and they may do 
very much by always encouraging the right measures 



174 



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for the national welfare. And when they teach in 
schools or homes, they do great service for the 
nation. 

Only to think of the grand men who have died for 
duty in many nations ; of the women and children 
who were content to weep if their country needed 
their loved ones ; and then think what mean wretches 
those men are who only scheme to make money out 
of the troubles of their people. Yes, and think of 
the vileness of men who are traitors in an army or to 
public trust. 

We are not only citizens of the nation, but we 
belong to our neighborhood, and we have a State, and 
a county, and a town or city. Patriotism bids us do 
our duty to all of these. We help the nation in 
trying to make any part of it better than it is. 

No one can tell who may do the most for the 
country, — the president, a governor, a mayor, a 
sheriff, a constable, a soldier, a sailor, or a private 
citizen. Each one is to do the best he can for the 
land and the nation. 

The Arabs have a story of a man who wished to test which 
of his three sons loved him most. He sent them out to see 
which of the three would bring him the most valuable present. 
The three sons met in a distant city and compared the gifts they 
had found. The first had a carpet on which he could transport 
himself and others whithersoever he would. The second had a 
medicine which would cure any disease. The third had a glass 
in which he could see what was going on at any place he might 
name. The third used his glass to see what was going on at 
home. He saw his father ill in bed. The first transported all 
three to their home on his carpet. The second administered 
the medicine, and saved the father's life. The perplexity of the 
father, when he had to decide which son's gift had been of the 



PATRIOTISM. 



most value to him, illustrates very fairly the difficulty of saying 
whether one or another of us does the most for that mother 
which our country is. Every one may try to be a helper towards 
good government and prosperity. 

Of one who is not true to the duty he owes to his 
country, the v/orst must be thought and said. The 
duty is so sacred, that, if he be a coward, or a traitor, 
or a thief who enriches himself at the expense of the 
Commonwealth, he is despised. 

Benedict Arnold has gone on the pages of history covered 
with infamy. He was in command at West Point, and was an 
able officer. To his supposed patriotism and fidelity had been 
committed the charge of that important post. He sent word to 
the enemy that he might be bought. Down the river the British 
occupied New York City. Their war-ship, the Vulture, crept 
up the Hudson River with Major Andre on board, who was to 
meet General Arnold. In the darkness of night and under the 
trees the two met ; and Andre promised Arnold the rank and the 
pay he demanded. The plot miscarried by the capture of poor 
Andre, who was a brave and faithful man, and only doing what 
he thought was his soldierly duty. Arnold escaped ; but it was 
only to live and die in disgrace ; and as long as men read books, 
his name will stand among the most infamous wretches who 
have lived. 

On the black list of names, abhorred by every 
good man and woman, we should place all those who 
sell any public trust, every one who has been bribed, 
and those who make a wrong use of office. 

In what striking contrast to such characters is the nobleness 
of the young Chevalier D'Assas, a French officer, who, only a 
few years before Arnold's treason, sacrificed himself to save his 
comrades. The armies of France and Germany were very near 
each other one night. D'Assas was sent alone to reconnoitre. 
Suddenly he found himself surrounded by the enemy. Bayonets 



176 



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were at his breast, and a voice whispered in his ear, " Make but 
the shghtest noise, and you are a dead man." He saw at once 
the situation. The enemy was advancing to surprise his camp. 
If he kept still, they would do him no harm, only take him as 
prisoner, but his fellow-soldiers would be slain or captured. He 
called out as loud as he could, " Here, Auvergne ! Here are 
the enemy ! " He was at once cut down ; but his fidelity and 
death saved the army. 

V. We should cultivate patriotism. 

1. By reading the history of our country and the 
lives of those v^ho have become famed in her history. 
Washington, Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, Hamilton, 
Jackson, Marshall, Lincoln, Grant, and other names, 
adorn the pages of our national life. 

2. By observing our national and State holidays. 
When our great festivals come, we should not only 
play on such days, but have in mind what the Fourth 
of July, or Washington's Birthday, or any holiday, 
means. 

VI. Then patriotism ought to lead us to wish that 
all the world may have good government and pros- 
perity. 

As duty to our family at home points us to our 
true place in the greater family which our nation is, 
so our love for our nation and land should lead us to 
live and to act for that one large family of our 
Heavenly Father, the whole race of man on the 
earth. 

Good families will make a good nation ; good 
nations will make a good world. Every good nation 
helps to make other nations good. It takes a very 
long time for one nation to show others and to lead 
others to accept its good, but it is a sure work. 



PATRIOTISM. 



177 



Much of the good we have was taught our fathers in 
the histories of Greece and Rome. The Heavenly 
Father blessed the Hebrew nation, that the world 
might be blessed through it. And no nation should 
live for itself only, but for the world. 

Jesus our Lord was a Hebrew, and we see how he 
loved His own nation and its holy city when He 
wept over Jerusalem. When He talked with the 
woman of Samaria, we learn from what He said that 
He was then thinking of and loving the whole world. 
He told her of the wo ;ship of the Father, which was 
to be a true worship, not in the mountain of her 
country nor in Jerusalem only, but wherever men 
learned that "God is a Spirit," and should worship 
Him in spirit and in truth. 

Let us have a story of two girls who made the 
British believe that they were a whole company of 
soldiers. It is a true story, given by Charles Bar- 
nard, and shows how the girls loved their country, 
and how clever and brave they were : — 

When our fathers were fighting the second war with England, 
a British ship came into Boston Bay and frightened the few poor 
people living in a fishing village. The men there were poorly 
armed, and the soldiers on the ship had muskets and cannon. 
There was a light-house not very far off, but the keeper of the 
Scituate light had left home and was in the village. Rebecca 
Bates, his daughter, only fourteen years old, was at home ; and 
there was a young girl on a visit to her, named Sarah Winsor. 
Rebecca had to go up into the tower to polish the reflector, and 
while there she was the first one to discover the ship. She 
hurried down and sent off two little brothers to alarm the vil- 
lage. The tide would keep the ship away for some few hours, 
but that was only long enough to make the helpless people get 
more and more panic-stricken ; and they gathered the little 



178 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



valuables they had, to run away. When the tide served, five 
large boats, manned by sailors and filled with soldiers in gay 
red coats, put off from the ship. Their guns glittered in the 
sun. Rebecca Bates and Sarah Winsor sat up in the light-house 
tower looking at them. 

" Oh, if I only were a man ! " cried Rebecca. 

" What could you do ? See what a lot of them ; and look at 
their guns ! " replied Sarah. 

"I don't care, I'd fight. I'd use fathers old shot-gun, — 
anything." 

" Do you think there will be a fight? " asked Sarah. 

" I don't know. Uncle and father are in the village, and 
they will do all they can." 

" How still it is in the town ! There's not a man to be seen." 

" Oh, they are hiding till the soldiers get nearer. Then we'll 
hear the shots and the drum." 

The mention of the drum brought a recollection to Rebecca. 

"The drum," said she, "why, it's here. Father brought it 
home to mend it last night." 

Then a clever thought came to Rebecca, and the girls deter- 
mined on a plan to scare off the British. They found the fife 
and the drum, took them, and went out by a way along which 
the British could not see. When they got far enough away, 
they tightened up the drum and tried the fife softly. They were 
full of spirit, and were denouncing the cowardly act of the 
" Britishers," who meant to burn the fishermen's boats. 

"You take the fife, Sarah, and I'll drum." 

" Won't they see us ? " 

"No, we'll walk next the water on the outside beach." 

" Oh, yes ! and they'll think it's soldiers going down to the 
Point to head them off." 

The beach turned at the Point, and there, on the bay side, 
the soldiers were at their work of burning the boats. 

The fife and the drum began. The men in the town heard 
them and were amazed. Had the soldiers arrived from Boston 
to help them Louder and louder on the breeze came th.e roll 
of a sturdy drum and the scream of a brave fife. The soldiers 
heard them, and paused in their work of destruction. The offi- 



PATRIOTISM. 



179 



cers ordered everybody into the boats in the greatest haste. 
They imagined a great company was coming down to the Point 
with cannons to head them off. They would all be captured, 
and perhaps hung by the dreadful Americans. 

The girls were playing "Yankee Doodle." What a sight 
they were, marching by the water-side in the wind and the wet 
of the seashore ! If the English could but have seen them, — 
but they could not. And so the British scrambled into their 
boats, nearly leaving one of their officers behind. One did fall 
overboard and wet his fine clothes, they were in such haste. 
How the sailors pulled at the oars ! 

The people of the village became very brave now, and sent 
cracking shots from their poor old guns after the runaways. 

The soldiers and sailors scrambled up their ship's sides ; the 
ship ran out her big guns prepared to fire, while she weighed 
anchor and got ready to sail away. One shot came from her 
cannon, which was aimed at the light-house. It fell short in the 
water, as the girls — who were the great American Army of 
two, — arrived at the Point, and sat down tired, but laughing at 
their victory. 

Rebecca was an old and feeble lady when she gave the story 
to Mr. Barnard, who tells much more of it in one of the St, 
Nicholas magazines. 



i8o 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



IV.— HONESTY. 

Thou shalt not steal. — Exod. 20 : 15. 

A false balance is abomination to the Lord : but a just weight is his 
delight. — Frov. 11 : i. 

He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much. — Si. 
Luke 16 : 10. 

An honest man's the noblest work of God. 

— Pope. 

Such was our friend. Formed on the good old plan, 
A true and brave and downright honest man ! 

— Whittier. 

When we had our lesson on truthfulness, we 
learned that truthfulness and honesty were like twin- 
brothers. We studied truthfulness among duties 
owed to ourselves. We now come to study honesty 
among duties owed to others. 

I. Honesty is the virtue which will not allow us 
either to cheat or to steal. 

We took pains to notice that truthfulness must 
first be in us, in our spirit, in order that it may ever 
be found on our lips. So it is with other virtues. 
But in learning of these two, truthfulness and 
honesty, we must make sure to bear this in mind. 
Honesty must be in our spirit. We must have an 
honest spirit, that is, we must be honest, — the self 
in us be honest, — that honesty may be always 
expressed in our actions. 

Honesty is so much like truthfulness, that we may 
think of it as truth put into deeds instead of words. 



HONESTY. 



I8l 



The truly honest man is one in whom this virtue is 
so strong that it will not allow him to think of cheat- 
ing or stealing. The thought that he could do one 
or the other never comes into his mind. That is a 
very high ideal ; but every one of us should think 
enough of himself to wish it for himself. That is real 
honesty as duty to one's self. 

In studying honesty as duty to others, we must 
bear in mind the fact that temptation may come and 
put the thought of cheating or stealing into one's 
mind. And often the temptation comes so suddenly 
that one is surprised by it ; and he may not see 
right away the character of the act that he is tempted 
to do. We must rate as a truly honest person, one 
to whom comes the thought with its temptation, but 
who bids the temptation begone. To resist and 
overcome the evil thought shows that we have 
strength against it. 

We have sometimes found that the meaning of a 
name teaches us much. Now, the name of this virtue, 
honesty, means that which is beatUiful and honorable. 

There are many stories told to show what honesty 
is, and why we should be honest. It is a pity that 
many of them are not healthful, that is, they are not 
good and suitable stories, they present a false idea. 
So many of them show that honesty sometimes 
gains reward in money or success, and they recom- 
mend honesty because of such reward. Here is a 
story which gives us a true idea ; it is called 

Sailor Ben's Silver Purse. 

For two years had sailor Ben been off on the sea. Now his 
ship touched the shore, and his heart was full of joy. 



l82 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



When he said good-by to his mother, he was a wild, careless 
boy ; but in the rough days and stormy nights on the water, he 
had learned, not only to love his mother better, but to love and 
serve the God she loved. So he longed lO go to "her and tell her 
of his joy. 

Once on shore, he hurried to buy a gift for her ; a silver purse 
with long silver fringe, and into it he counted twenty gold dollars. 

" I'll make your heart glad in more ways than one, mother," 
he said, as he snapped the clasp and bounded over the rocks to 
the ship, for this was to be his last night on board for many 
months. 

In his haste his foot slipped, and he fell heavily, bruising his 
head, spraining his wrist, and the precious purse was flung out 
of his hands, down out of sight to the rocks below. Poor Ben ! 
never thinking of his bruises, he climbed down, searching for 
his treasure till the night closed about him, then slowly with an 
aching heart he went back to his ship. 

But there was a boy whose name was Aleck, and who, early 
every morning, swung himself down among the rocks, to hunt 
for the eggs the sea-birds leave in their nests. The next morn- 
ing he caught sight of something he never saw before in any 
nest, and eagerly grasped it. It is Ben's silver purse. No 
more eggs for Aleck to-day ; but with his treasure safe in his 
pocket, he climbs up the rope to show his riches to his mother. 
Up on the rope he meets sailor Ben, with limping gait and anx- 
ious face, searching for his purse. 

"My boy, I'll give you the biggest gold dollar you ever put 
your eyes on, if you'll find the purse I lost here last night. It 
was for my old mother. It will break my heart to go home 
without it." 

For a minute there was a battle fierce and terrible in Aleck's 
heart. Was not this purse his ? He had found it. His mother 
needed the gold as much as Ben's mother, but would she ever 
touch it, if she knew he had kept it from its rightful owner? 
No, he knew what she would bid him do ; and laying the purse 
in Ben's hands, he gained the victory, the battle was over. 

And so, while Ben was rattling along in the coach, happy to 
pour into his mother's lap the gold he had saved for her, in the 



HONESTY. 



183 



little cottage among the trees, Aleck was telling his mother the. 
story of his temptation. She said at its close : 

" Better an honest heart, my boy, than all the gold and silver 
in the land." 

II. Very early in life we learn that some things are 
oit7's. Our parents or friends may give us a toy or a 
piece of money, and we learn that it is our property. 

What should we think of one who took our prop- 
erty for himself t 

That he was a thief or a robber. 

Indeed we should, because we regard our right to 
our property as sacred. We feel that we have 
almost as much right to our property as we have to 
our hands. No one else can have any right to what 
has been given us, or what we have bought, until 
we give or sell it, unless it was unjustly taken from 
some other person before we came into possession 
of it. 

We get property in two or three ways ; it may be 
given to us, or we may earn it, or we may make 
something. Then it is ours against all the world. 
There are three ways in which it may be taken from 
us, any one of which would give us a deep sense of 
being wronged. 

1. Some one- may take it in secret or by force. 

2. Some one may buy it from us, and pay us bad 
money for it. 

3. Some one may buy it by coming into our debt 
for it, and may cheat us of payment. 

All this teaches our duty to others. Every one 
has the same sacred right to his property. 
Two things then we must do : — 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



1. Be honest. 

2. Uphold the laws of society which protect right- 
ful ownership. 

III. The laws of every good state condemn cheat- 
ing, thieving, and robbing. 

Cheating is swindling any one out of property ; 
thieving is the taking of it secretly ; robbing is tak- 
ing it by force. 

The laws of a state do not protect us against all 
dishonesty, because they cannot be made perfect. 
Some dishonest persons will find means to take what 
is not their own, and to escape punishment. They 
violate trust when money is given to their care, they 
break banks, and do other wicked things by which 
honest persons lose. Good people innocently put 
their money in a bank, the managers use the money 
for schemes of their own and waste it, and the bank 
has no money to pay those whom it owes. This is 
breaking a bank. They try to do this without violat- 
ing a letter of the law. Cruel sorrow has come to 
those who have been ruined by men whom the laws 
did not punish. 

If the laws of the state cannot always punish dis- 
honesty, let us remember that the law of God is 
perfect. It forbids us to have any will or consent in 
our heart to wrong another. 

It is a wrong done to another if we use his money 
by putting it at risk without his consent. Suppose 
you had some change, say amounting to a dollar, and 
that you were going on some excursion where you 
were afraid that in romping you might lose it. Per- 
haps you would ask some friend whom you trust, to 



HONESTY, 



take care of your money for the day. After you 
were gone, this friend might meet a pedler who 
offered what he called a good gold pencil, and which 
he said was worth two dollars, for one dollar. If 
your friend were to say to himself, "I will buy this 
pencil, and can easily sell it for a dollar and a half, if 
not for two dollars," and should use your dollar in the 
purchase, he would be doing wrong to you. He would 
have no right to use your dollar in this way without 
your consent. Let us suppose that he does this wrong 
thing, even with the intention of sharing the expected 
gain with you. He has done with your money that 
which he has no reason to think you would permit. 
Now, we may suppose further, that having bought 
the pencil he goes to sell it, and learns that it is not 
gold, but only brass, and worth not more than a 
quarter of a dollar. How would you feel if on 
your return to get your dollar this story were told to 
you } That is the way that trusts are violated when 
banks are broken through speculation. That is the 
way a trustee may wrong a person whose money or 
property has been given for safe keeping. 

Dr. Walter C. Smith of Edinburgh presents the 
sad case of five elderly sisters who were ruined 
by the breaking of a bank. He visited them nine 
days after they had been reduced to poverty. Their 
sorrow was so deep that in all that time no meal had 
been cooked in their home, and they had not lain in 
their beds to sleep. They were bewildered, and 
were vaguely hoping that the good God would come 
and take them away from the evil that was to follow. 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



This gentleman wrote some lines which described 
their distress under the wrong done them : — 

" Pity us, God ! there are five of us here, 
With threescore years on the youngest head. 

Five of us sitting in sorrow and fear — 
Well for our widowed one she is dead. 

Could they not wait a while ? 



We could live on so little, cheerful and brave ; 

But to leave the old house, where old memories throng, 
For the poorhouse ! oh, rather the peace of the grave ! " 

Some of the ways in which cheating is practised 
and law evaded, and some ways by which persons 
escape law through not being found out, may be 
mentioned : 

1. Lying as to the value of goods. 

2. Adulteration of articles for sale, that is, making 
them weaker or of less value. The watering of 
milk is an instance. 

3. Giving light weight. 

4. Going in debt when one has not good prospect 
of paying the debt. 

5. Giving poor work or idle time for wages. 

6. Using money or property without the consent 
of the owners. 

7. Begging when one is not poor, or can earn 
money. 

IV. We were speaking about unhealthy stories on 
the subject of honesty. There is a proverb which 
says, " Honesty is the best policy." Nearly all these 
stories try to show that proverb to be true. In the 



HONESTY. 



187 



meaning usually given to it, it is Satan's proverb and 
is false. 

No one can be really honest who acts only upon 
that proverb. We have already learned enough to see 
that. Such a person would be strongly tempted to 
dishonest action if he saw gain to be promised by 
dishonesty, and was confident that he would not be 
found out. One acting only from that proverb, in its 
usual sense, would not be honest in himself. 

There is only one sense in which the proverb can 
be true, and that is when we mean that honesty is 
the best policy for the good of our soul. But it is 
seldom used to mean that. What is generally meant 
by it is that honesty is the best policy for success 
in getting worldly gain. Here is how a thoughtful 
editor speaks on this subject : — 

"Does it, after all, pay to be honest? " a disappointed young 
man writes. No, my son, if you're honest for pay, it doesn't. 
Not if you are honest merely because you think it will pay ; 
not if you are honest only because you are afraid to be a rogue ; 
indeed, my dear boy, it does not pay to be honest that way. If 
you can't be honest because you hate a lie and scorn a mean 
action, if you can't be honest from principle, you will probably 
succeed as a rascal ; you cannot make anybody beheve in hon- 
esty that is bought and sold hke merchandise. 

Let us look into the character of a young man 
who had learned the proverb, Honesty is the best 
policy." 

William Prompt had been taken into a merchant's office at 
the age of sixteen, and he proved himself so competent and 
obliging that after a few years he was promoted to a very 
responsible position. Large sums of money were intrusted to 
his care, and no one doubted his fidelity. One day he saw an 



i88 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



opportunity to defraud his employer, and he could do the deed 
so adroitly that his detection would be almost impossible. He 
was strongly tempted to commit this sinful act, but, at last, he 
said to himself : " I can do this easily, and make enough by it 
to give me a long start on the road to fortune. I do not fear 
discovery. But the act may be found out, and then my reputa- 
tion would be ruined, and my prospects blasted. I will not run 
such a risk." And so the prudent young man kept on at his 
regular work, and did not steal from his employer. 

The Rev. Dr. Norton, after telling this story, says : 
" Do you respect him } Could he have any respect 
for himself } No. That young man was a thief in 
his heart ; and he woitld steal if he were not afraid of 
being found out." 

Only one thing can hold us firmly to truth and 
honesty. We must be true and honest in ourselves, 
in our very soul. 

A beautiful story is told which shows the horror 
of a rude and simple people at any kind of dis- 
honesty : — 

Alexander, during his march into Africa, came to a people 
dweUing in peaceful huts, who knew neither war nor conquest. 
Gold being offered him, he refused it, saying that his sole ob- 
ject was to learn the manners and customs of the inhabitants. 
" Stay with us," said the chief, " as long as it pleaseth thee." 

During this residence with the African chief, two subjects of 
the chief brought a case to him for judgment. The dispute was 
thus : The one had bought a piece of ground, which, after the 
purchase, was found to contain a treasure, for which he felt him- 
self bound to pay. The other refused to receive anything, 
stating that he had sold the ground with what it might be found 
to contain, apparent or concealed. 

Said the chief, looking at the one, "You have a son ;" and 
to the other, " You have a daughter ; let them be married, and 
the treasure given them as a dowry." 



HONESTY. 



189 



Alexander was astonished. 

"And what," said the chief, "would have been the decision 
in your country ? " 

" We should have dismissed the parties, and seized the 
treasure for the king's use." 

"And does the sun shine in your country?" said the chief; ■ 
"does the rain fall there? Are there any cattle there which 
feed upon herbs and green grass ? " 
" Certainly," said Alexander. 

"Ah! " said the chief, "it is for the sake of those innocent 
cattle that the Great Being permits the sun to shine, the rain to 
fall, and the grass to grow, in your country." 

Here is a case of sterling honesty where it was 
not the best policy, except, indeed, to the poor man's 
own soul. 

It is given by Mr. Samuel Smiles in his book on 
Duty : — 

A poor German peasant lived where a French army was in- 
vading his country. Now, armies in the country of an enemy 
must forage in order to subsist. A captain of dragoons was 
ordered out with his troops to forage for provisions. He reached 
a poor cabin, and knocked at the door. An old man with a 
white beard appeared. " Lead me to a field," said the officer, 
"where I can obtain forage for my troops." — "Immediately, 
sir," replied the old man. He put himself at the head of the 
company and ascended the valley. After about half an hour's 
march a fine field of barley appeared. " This will do admirably," 
said the officer. " No," said the old man ; " wait a little ; on a 
little farther, and all will be right?'' They went on until they 
reached another field of barley. The troops dismounted, mowed 
down the grain, trussed it up in bundles, and put them on their 
horses. " Friend," said the officer, " how is it that you have 
brought us up here ? the first field of barley was quite as good 
as this." — " That is true," said the joeasant ; " but // was not 
mine.^'' 



I go 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



v.— JUSTICE. 

He hath showed thee, O man, what is good ; and what doth the Lord 
require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with 
thy God? — AfzV. 6: 8. 

There was a man named Joseph, a counsellor ; and he was a good man, and 
a just. . . . This man went unto Pilate, and begged the body of Jesus. And 
he took it down, and wrapped it in linen, and laid it in a sepulchre that was 
hewn in stone, wherein never man before was laid. — St. Luke 23 : 50, 52, 53. 

Be just in all you say, and all you do — 
Whatever be your birth, you're sure to be 
A peer of the first magnitude to me. 

— Dryden. 

Justice is to be our study. We wish other per- 
sons to be honest toward our property ; but we have 
much else besides property that we hold dearly, and 
wish to have protected. 

I. Justice is honesty enlarged or developed. It is 
honesty applied to everything ; to character and to 
opportunity, as well as to property. Fair play is one 
expression of justice. 

If any one gives to another a bad name that is not 
deserved, he not only lies, but he does injustice to 
that person. The one spoken against is robbed 
of his good name, and that was worth more than 
property. 

If we should injure any one's opportunity to do 
well, or if we should win anything over another 
unfairly, we would be unjust. 



JUSTICE. 191 

Harry Brown was playing " I spy " with his companions, and 
it was his duty to blind his eyes, so that he could not see where 
anyone hid himself; but he only pretended to cover his eyes, 
and peeped. He saw Sammy Sands go behind a tree, and of 
course he went right to that tree and caught Sammy. That was 
unjust : it was not fair play. 

Lucy and Mary were the best spellers in their class. Some- 
times one would be at the head, and then the other. One day 
a very hard word was given to the class, which neither of them 
could spell. Lucy, then at the head of the class, tried it and 
failed. Mary heard some one in an advanced class, who sat 
just behind them, spell the word in a whispered tone ; she 
caught it, gave it correctly, and took Lucy's place. Mary was 
unjust. 

We learn that taking a mean advantage is unjust, 
when boys or girls cry out, That's not fair play," 
or " Play fairly." 

II. There is a great truth we may find in children's 
play, that belongs to many of our lessons, but it fits 
in so well here that we shall now notice it. When 
children are playing together, the Heavenly Father 
is giving them lessons in morals. 

In the society of boys and girls at play or study, 
very many duties are learned that men and women 
owe to society. It is a little world, to teach us our 
duty in the great world. God is watching the little 
world as well as the great world. 

Now, boys and girls who are fair to one another 
soon decline the company of one who insists on play- 
ing unfairly. They say of such a one, " He breaks 
up the game." This tribute to justice is the same 
which good society pays when it will not invite to its 
company an unjust man. People must regard such 
a man as more fit to be in prison, though he has not 



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broken any law for which he can be sent to prison, 
than for good society. The fable of the tiger and 
the peasant shows us how to estimate this character. 

A tiger, who was out for a walk, came to the cabin of a peas- 
ant, and knocked on the door. 

" Who is there " demanded the peasant. 
" It is I, the tiger." 

A gun was poked out of a window, and the tiger received a 
mortal hurt. As he rolled on the ground in his dying agonies, 
he gasped, — 

" Ungrateful man ! I was intending simply to pay you a 
friendly call." 

" Ah, yes ! " sighed the peasant ; " but the difficulty of distin- 
guishing a good tiger from a bad one is so great, I make it a 
rule to fire upon all." 

There is no unjust person who is good ; and when 
Mr. or Miss Injustice comes to call on us, we cannot 
receive such person with confidence as we would one 
who is a good member of society. 

III. Perhaps we now have such a high idea of 
justice that we are ready to think very meanly of an 
unjust person, and to imagine that we never shall do 
injustice. 

It is not so easy to be just as we may at the 
moment think it to be. There are matters in which 
it is quite difficult to be just. 

I. We cannot be sure that we entertain a just 
opinion of those whom we do not know very well. 
We only hear what they say, and see what they do. 
We cannot look into their hearts, and know why they 
say and do what we hear and see. To be sure, we 
cannot do that in the case of any whom we know 



JUSTICE. 



very well, but there is an intimate acquaintance with 
persons that reveals character to us. Without this 
familiar fellowship we readily mistake others. 

Our impression, while ignorant of what the char- 
acter of another really is, cannot but govern our 
behavior towards him to some extent ; but we should 
not allow ourselves to speak against him. And yet 
very many children and too many adult persons are 
ever ready to utter their bad opinions of persons 
they do not know. Cruel wrong to most worthy 
people has often been done by this habit. Those 
who speak thus hastily are ever in danger of cause 
for deep regret in finding that they have been mis- 
taken and have injured others. 

Charlie Sly was quite a bad boy, and he was mean. He 
thought that Frank Courage could be of great service to him. 
When he got into ugly scrapes with other boys, which was 
frequently the case, and they threatened to whip him for his 
meanness, it would be a good thing for him if he might be 
found walking with Frank Courage. Now, Frank did not know 
Charlie or any of his set. Therefore when Charlie made a 
very friendly advance, Frank could not well help thinking, 
" What a very nice boy Charlie Sly must be ! " 

This was very noble in Frank, for we should not be too ready 
to suspect others ; but it gave him a bad companion, and got 
him into serious difficulty. He was thought to be the protector 
of Charlie Sly in mean wickedness. 

Then look at another case. 

Celia Shy was a very good, true, and friendly person, but she 
was very sensitive. She had been on intimate terms with Susie 
Shaw. One day v/hen they met, and Susie expected Celia to 
run up to her and say something pleasant, Celia turned away 
without noticing Susie, and joined another girl. Then Susie 



194 



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thought that Celia had never been true in her friendship ; and 
Susie, greatly offended, said, " I will never speak to that girl 
again." The fact was that a third girl, a malicious slanderer, 
the very one that Celia was now walking with, had whispered a 
falsehood to Celia, telling her that Susie had said some unkind 
thing of her. Poor, sensitive Celia, believing this, was too shy 
to go to Susie. 

In one of these cases, that of Frank Courage, 
an unjust good opinion was adopted; while in the 
case of Susie Shaw, an unjust bad opinion was 
held. 

2. Circumstances sometimes lead to cruel injustice. 

A banker placed a five-hundred-dollar bill in his safe, and 
when he looked for it could not find it. A young man in his 
office had been left there alone for a very few minutes, one day 
when the safe-door was open. The banker charged him with 
theft. The young clerk insisted on his innocence, but he was 
discharged. Who else could have taken it ? Not at any other 
time was the safe left open, and no one had ever picked the 
lock. The young man died in disgrace and poverty. Some 
time after that, the safe was overhauled for repairs, and behind 
a drawer, where it had slipped, was found the five-hundred- 
dollar bill. 

3. There is another state of things in which we 
find it hard to be just. And here we have some 
knowledge, and should be able to be just. Let us 
be ashamed of ourselves for finding justice a hard 
duty under such conditions. It is when we do not 
like some one. We are tempted to think that person 
is not so good nor so wise as he may at times appear 
to be. We are easily led to think unkindly and un- 
justly of a person we cannot like. We find it hard 
to speak a just word in defence of him. 



JUSTICE. 



IV. The rule of thought, speech, and action for 
us is the Golden R*ule. What is it ? 

Do tmto others as yoit would be done by. 

These words are but slightly different from those 
in the Sermon on the Mount, St. Matt. 7:12. 

We must be careful to do no injustice to others. 
We must suffer injustice done to ourselves, where 
we cannot prevent it and cannot remedy it. 

Frank Courage, as we have seen, did right. It 
would destroy the good fellowship that ought to be 
encouraged, if we were all suspicious one of another. 
Frank suffered from an unjust good opinion he had 
formed. But if, with good intentions, we take the 
chances of being imposed on, we shall not feel that 
we have done a wrong thing, even though we do 
suffer in consequence. 

The banker's words and action were hasty and sad. 
He should have been more careful, and then he 
ought to have done two things : (i) made a close 
search by pulling out his safe-drawers and all other 
movable parts ; (2) have waited a long time, and 
tested his clerk's character in further service. 

Be as careful as we may, we shall probably find at 
some time that we have been unjust. What ought 
we to do if that should happen } 

Admit our mistake, and do what we can to undo 
bad results. 

We are also to remember that we owe a duty to 
persons who suffer from injustice, when we have not 
done them the injustice. Justice is such a high 
principle that we must ever be ready to stand up for 
it. Even if our enemies are treated unjustly, we 



196 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



should give our best efforts to get justice done 
them. 

In statuary and painting, Justice is represented as 
a woman with her eyes bandaged, and a pair of well- 
balanced scales in the left hand and a sword in the 
right hand. This is to show that Justice is blind to 
all persons ; she will not know a king from a beggar, 
or a friend from an enemy ; that she will weigh cor- 
rectly every cause ; and that she will punish with the 
sword any offender. 

Here is the way justice may be demanded, and its 
claims be respected. It is said to be a true story 
of the king and the miller. 

Near Sans Souci, the favorite residence of Frederick the Great, 
there was a mill which much interfered with the view from the 
palace. One day the king sent to inquire what the owner would 
take for the mill ; and the unexpected reply came that the miller 
would not sell it for any money. The king, much incensed, 
gave orders that the mill should be pulled down. The miller 
made no resistance, but folding his arms quietly remarked, — 

" The king may do this, but there are laws in Prussia." 

And he took legal proceedings, the result of which was that 
the king had to rebuild the mill, and to pay a good sum of money 
besides in compensation. 

Although his Majesty was much chagrined at this end to the 
matter, he put the best face he could upon it ; and turning to 
his courtiers, he remarked, — 

" I am glad to see that there are just laws and upright judges 
in my kingdom." 

A sequel to this incident occurred about forty years ago. A 
descendant of the miller had come into possession of the mill. 
After having struggled for several years against ever-increasing 
poverty, and being at length quite unable to keep on his busi- 
ness, he wrote to the King of Prussia, reminding him of the 



JUSTICE. 



197 



incident we have just related, and stating that, if his Majesty 
felt so disposed, he should be very thankful, in his present diffi- 
culty, to sell the mill. The king wrote the following reply with 
his own hand : — 

My DEAR Neighbor, — I cannot allow you to sell the mill. It must 
always be in your possession as long as one member of your family exists, 
for it belongs to the history of Prussia. I regret, however, to hear you are in 
such straitened circumstances, and therefore send you herewith a sum of 
money, in the hope that it may be of some service in restoring your fortunes. 

Consider me always your affectionate neighbor, 

Frederick William. 

Artstides was so just that his name has gone into history 
as "Aristides the Just." He belonged to one of the best fami- 
lies in Athens. He opposed all the schemes of ambitious or 
unwise leaders, and in consequence was banished. At the end 
of three years he learned that the Persians had invaded Greece, 
and that the fleet of his country was surrounded. He hastened 
home, and offered his aid to Themistocles, his personal enemy, 
who had had him banished, and who was the all-powerful head 
of the state. Aristides was restored to popular favor after 
coming out of the war with honor. Then Themistocles, ambi- 
tious and dishonorable as ever, said to his people that he had a 
scheme which would be very advantageous to Athens, but it 
must be a great secret, and could not be told to a public assem- 
bly. The Athenians had so much confidence in Aristides now, 
that he was appointed to hear the scheme. Themistocles laid 
before him a plan to burn all the vessels of the other Greek 
states who were the friends, the brethren, the allies of Athens, 
and thus make Athens alone the great naval power of Greece. 
Aristides reported to the people that nothing could be more 
advantageous to Athens than the scheme laid before him, but 
nothing could be more unjust. The people rejected it. 

Aristides died so poor that the public had to pay for his 
funeral. 

There is a story told of a Pope of Rome, who did 
an act of justice, and it shows that justice rises 
sometimes higher than law. 



198 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



The Pope ordered a great and heavy obelisk — a monument 
of one stone — to be removed from the Circus of Nero to the 
front of St. Peter's. A skilful architect was put over the work. 
When he succeeded in getting the obelisk to the stone pedestal 
on which it was to stand, a holiday was appointed, so that all 
the people could assemble to witness the raising of the obelisk 
to its proper place. This was a great undertaking, and called 
for delicate care and vigilant work. There was all the machin- 
ery, the windlasses, and blocks and ropes ; and there was the 
great crowd ; and there were soldiers to keep the peace. To 
preserve order the Pope had proclaimed that, while the work 
was going on, no one in the crowd of spectators should speak a 
loud word, on pain of being put in prison. We can imagine 
the almost painful silence of the people, as the windlass went 
roundj and the blocks creaked under the strain of the ropes. 
Be sure that Latin crowd is ready to burst forth with great 
huzzas, when the engineer completes his work. But the great 
stone stops within a few inches of the place where it should be. 
What is the matter Has the engineer made a fatal mistake in 
his calculations ? He almost seems to think so, and is ordering 
the monument to be lowered. But an enthusiastic sailor in 
the crowd cried out, " Wet the ropes ! Wet the ropes ! " He 
knew that the fault was,only this : the ropes had been stretched 
by the great weight of the obelisk; and he knew that when 
ropes get wet they shrink and become shorter. The engi- 
neer acted on the hint, and the immense stone rose to its true 
place. 

But the sailor had violated the Pope's proclamation, and so 
the soldiers arrested him and put him in prison. And now 
what do you think was the punishment the Pope gave to Jack 
An immediate release, and a large sum of money. 

The character of Joseph of Arimathea, who gave 
our Lord decent and tender burial, and was helped 
in the work by Nicodemus, is shown in one of the 
texts of this lesson. "He was a good man and a 



JUSTICE. 



199 



He was too just a man to "consent to the counsel 
and deed " of his fellow-rulers of the Jews, in cruci- 
fying our Lord ; and when Jesus was dead he "went 
in boldly unto Pilate, and craved the body of Jesus." 
This was a brave act of justice. 



200 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



VL — MERCY. 



He hath showed thee, O man, what is good ; and what doth the Lord 
require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy 
God? —Mic. 6:8. 

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. — St. Matt. 5 : 7. 

We do pray for mercy ; 
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. 

— Shakspeare. 

We come from our lesson on Justice, to study 
Mercy. 

I. We mean by mercy, pity which helps a suffer- 
ing person, and which forgives a debt or an injury. 

Many make the mistake of thinking that justice 
and mercy are so contrary that we cannot be both 
just and merciful at the same time ; that at least we 
are unjust to ourselves ofttimes when we are merciful 
to others. Let us get a correct idea of the difference 
between justice and mercy, and then we shall not fall 
into the mistake. 

They belong to entirely different cases. Justice 
applies to cases which ought to be treated justly, and 
where mercy is not needed ; where nothing but jus- 
tice should be asked of us. Mercy applies to cases 
where it is needed. Justice and mercy would be 
wrong because misapplied — if we should try to be 
just where we ought to be merciful, and if we should 
offer mercy where we ought to be just. 



MERCY. 



201 



Let us then get this simple idea fixed in our mind : 
justice is for those who ought to have justice, and 
mercy is for those who need mercy from us. Then 
we have only to remember that a case may change 
from one which calls for justice, to one which calls 
for mercy. 

Here is a short story which will make the first part 
of this plain to us. 

Two little fellows were playing together in " hoop-time." 
They were Johnnie Towne and Freddie Ladd. The former said, 
" Fred, let me try your hoop, and you try mine." So they 
exchanged hoops for one or two runs. Johnnie was quite care- 
less with Freddie's hoop ; he was standing over it, and pressing 
it down with his hands to see how far it would bend, and he 
broke it. " IJJever mind, Freddie," said he ; " you keep my 
hoop for your own, and I will mend this with a string that's in 
my pocket." That was just ; and this was a case that called 
for justice. When Johnnie had the hoop very well tied together, 
they went on racing as before. As they tired themselves and 
stopped for breath, they noticed a ragged little urchin crying 
beside an older sister who was trying to comfort him. " What's 
the matter, little well of weeping ? " asked Johnnie. But the 
boy only hid his face in his sister's skirts, and would not answer. 
The sister spoke for him, saying, " He's only crying for a hoop, 
because he says all the other boys have one." — " Here, he 
shall have mine," spoke up Freddie. The ragged little fellow 
stopped weeping as he took the hoop, and went on a happy 
child. That was mercy on the part of Freddie ; and the miser- 
able little boy who did not know where to get a hoop was a case 
that called for mercy. 

Again, the moral works of justice and mercy are 
unlike, and show the true difference between the two 
virtues. Justice asks us to pay what wc owe, and 
bids us not wrong any one ; mercy asks us to bless a 



202 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



wretched one with our help or a gift, and to bless an 
offender with our pardon. 

Our Saviour gave a parable which we may now 
learn. There was a king who began to reckon with 
his servants, and found one who owed him ten thou- 
sand talents. But the man had nothing ; and his 
lord and king thought him to be a proper subject for 
justice. So this king commanded that the man and 
his family should be sold as slaves, in order that pay- 
ment might be made. This would have been justice 
according to the Roman law of that day ; and our 
Saviour was telling, in the sense of the time, of what 
was then likely to occur. Knowing the customs of 
the people, we must suppose that this servant's debt 
was from stealing, and spending taxes or rents that he 
had collected for the king. When the wretched man 
heard that he and his family were to be sold, he pre- 
tended that he was very penitent, and that he would 
do what was right. He cried out to his angry lord, 
"Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all." 
Then the lord of this servant thought him to be a 
subject for mercy, and he said, "I forgive you all 
your debt." If the man had been as good as his 
lord thought him to be, it would have been unjust to 
sell him and his family. But the servant was not 
good : he was bad, and deserved justice. He went 
out, and met one of his fellow-servants who owed him 
a hundred pence. He seized this poor debtor by the 
throat, saying, " Pay me that thou owest." This 
fellow-servant begged for mercy, just as the man who 
arrested him had done. But the unmerciful creditor 
" went and cast him into prison till he should pay the 



MERCY. 



203 



debt." When the king heard of it, — for the other 
servants reported it, — he now saw that his first 
impression was correct, that this wicked servant was 
a proper subject for justice, and therefore he ''deliv- 
ered him to the tormentors till he should pay all that 
was due." 

The cases, then, are very different where one calls 
for justice, and another for mercy. 

And now note that the contrary thing to justice is 
not mercy, but injustice ; and that the opposite of 
mercy is cruelty. Thus we are also helped to see 
the true difference between justice and mercy. It 
is very plain that these are not opposed to each 
other. Justice is only cruel when we apply it to a 
case where we should use mercy. 

The just man goes out to collect what is due him, 
and to pay all his debts ; the same man is merciful 
when he forgives one who cannot pay him, or goes 
out to bless the suffering ones of his neighbor- 
hood. 

11. Mercy becomes our duty whenever others 
need it. 

If we will not forgive a debt when one is will- 
ing to pay and cannot do so, the poor debtor 
must become something like a slave to us. If 
we will not give money or help of some kind where 
another is suffering, his poverty or pain must con- 
tinue. 

Never has mercy, in the way of charitable help 
and spending our money, been more beautifully 
shown than in the picture our Lord gives us of the 
Good Samaritan. (The parable should be read or 



204 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



told. Nothing in it needs our interpretation for this 
lesson.) 

Mercy, in the way of forgiving wrong, becomes 
our duty when any person does us an injury. 

John Wesley and Governor Oglethorpe came over the ocean 
to Georgia in company. The governor was a very excitable 
man. One day he quarrelled with his servant, and immediately 
afterward said to Mr. Wesley, " I'll be revenged on him, for I 
never forgive." 

" Then, sir," answered Mr. Wesley, " I hope you never sin." 

We should show our forgiveness to the wrong- 
doer just as soon as he will permit us. If we notice 
that he becomes sorry, then is a good time to show 
our pardon. If he gets punished for his wrong to 
us, then we should be quick to show it. If he comes 
into any trouble, let us be very ready to show our 
forgiving disposition. 

We may find many ugly acts, done to us, not so 
hard to bear and to forgive if we will think of what 
is possibly the state of the case. Sometimes angry 
persons hardly know what evil they do us ; or persons 
may think we have done them wrong, and feel pro- 
voked to punish us ; or they may not have had us 
in mind when doing that which has hurt us. 

If we forgive, and return good for evil, the usual 
result is to awaken the good nature in our enemy, 
and we conquer him by his surrender to our 
pardon. 

Here is the way a robber was forgiven and saved : 

A servant of the Rev. Rowland Hill suddenly died, and his 
master preached his funeral sermon to a numerous audience, in 



MERCY. 



205 



the course of which he mentioned the following anecdote : 
" Many persons present were acquainted with the deceased, and 
have had it in their power to observe his character and conduct. 
They can bear witness that I speak the truth when I assert 
that he has proved himself a perfectly sober, honest, industrious, 
and religious man, faithfully performing, as far as it lay in his 
power, the duties of his station in life, and serving God with 
constancy and zeal ; yet this very man, this virtuous and pious 
man, was once a robber on the highway. More than thirty 
years ago he stopped me on the high-road and demanded my 
money. Not at all intimidated, I argued with him. I asked 
him what could induce him to pursue so iniquitous a course of 
life. 'I have been a coachman, sir,' said he, 'but am out of 
place, and not being able to get a character, can get no employ- 
ment, and am therefore obhged to resort to this means of gain- 
ing a subsistence.' I desired him to call upon me ; he promised 
he would, and kept his word. I talked further with him, and 
offered to take him into my service. He consented, and ever 
since that period he has served me faithfully, and not me only, 
but he has faithfully served God. And instead of having fin- 
ished his hfe in a public ignominious manner, with a depraved 
and hardened mind, as he probably soon would have done, he 
has died in peace, rejoicing in hope, and prepared, we trust, for 
the society of just men made perfect." 

It is not unmerciful to punish a wrong-doer when 
justice actually demands his punishment, and while 
we keep our hearts free from vengeance, and are 
ready to return good for evil as soon as we should 
do so. 

III. Our deeds of mercy should be done pri- 
vately. 

We ought to shun the praise that is given to the 
merciful. If we find pleasure in such praise, we 
may be tempted to do some works of mercy for 
applause. Then, whatever good others received from 



2o6 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



our sham mercy, we should not be merciful, we should 
only be seeking praise. 

There is also another reason for privacy. It hurts 
the feelings of any right-minded person to be exposed 
as an object of charity, and it is not mercy to allow 
this. It hurts such a person's feelings to be forgiven 
a wrong in presence of others, unless the nature of 
the case requires it. Let both be done in secret so 
far as circumstances will permit. 

IV. Let us call up some cruel acts : — 

1. To give needless suffering. 

2. To make others work too hard. 

3. To make any one work for pay that is not 
enough. 

4. To steal a friend away from any one. 

5. To give any one a bad name. 

6. To hurt any one's feelings. 

7. To bully one who is weaker than ourselves or 
who is under us. 

Is it any wonder that we have the ugliest names 
for cruelty } We say that a cruel person is hard- 
hearted, savage, inhuman, brutal. 

We should only admire the picture of a hero hurt- 
ing or killing some one, when it is done from some 
high principle. Indeed, only then is the action that 
of a hero. When it is the righteous wounding or 
killing of some tyrant who is unmerciful to humanity, 
then it is an act of mercy. Mercy for others requires 
that a tyrant should be overcome. 

Look at the picture of St. George and the Dragon. There 
is the good and brave warrior on his rearing horse, and with his 
lance he is pinning the dragon to the earth. There never was a 



MERCY. 



207 



real dragon, but such an animal was supposed to be, and repre- 
sents evil and cruelty. One story of it was that it lived in a 
great stagnant lake, and would come up to blow its poisonous 
breath upon cities, which then became deathful places. Every 
day the dragon would demand some young girl to be sacrificed. 
One day the king's daughter was to become its victim, and she 
was tied to a stake near the dark water to be devoured. St. 
George arrived, and when the dragon came out for his prey 
St. George killed him, and delivered the maiden, whom he made 
his wife. Any tyrant or representative of evil, hurt and killed by 
a hero, may make a picture of bloodshed which does not wound 
our sense of mercy, because it is the overthrow of cruelty. 

All the beautiful language used to describe mercy 
in poetry and eloquence, belongs to the subject, so 
beautiful is this virtue. If language were richer, we 
might add other words. \¥e have seen how artists 
have represented Justice ; but no painter or sculptor 
has been able to dream of a picture or a statue of 
Mercy. It is beyond the creation of art. It re- 
quires a group, showing some one doing acts of 
mercy for others. One solemn and sacred scene 
stands in history as the highest mercy ; it is our 
Lord on His cross, looking upon those who crucified 
Him, and saying, " Father, forgive them ; for they 
know not what they do." 

In the Lord's Prayer the sentiment and duty of 
mercy are made known to us in the petition, " Forgive 
us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass 
against us." 

A little girl was visiting an old nurse when a poor woman 
came, who wished to have a thorn taken from her foot. The 
nurse said, " Indeed, neighbor, I fear I cannot do it, for my eyes 
are become dim of late." 

" But mine are not," said Miss Margaret. 



208 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



It was not a clean foot, and it was not a pleasant job ; and 
the little girl had been raised very tenderly. But to relieve suf- 
fering, down the child got on her knees, took out the thorn, and 
bound the foot up with a bit of linen. 

Phil Faithful and Pat Strong were not friends. They went 
to a large school where the teacher often called on the more 
advanced scholars to hear the lesson of a class below them. 
Pat was in the lower class, a great, dull boy, among boys 
younger than himself He was a great bully in this class, and 
you may be sure his classmates were all afraid of him. Phil 
was sometimes sent to act as teacher of this class. He always 
reported Pat Strong's deficiencies, and Pat hated him. A bully 
is a coward, and Pat was afraid to do any harm open and above 
board to Phil, lest the master might punish him. There were 
many mean things which he did, however. One day Phil's 
luncheon was found sprinkled plentifully with sand, and Pat had 
been seen stealing away from where Phil had left it for at 
moment. But the worst thing was a painful, and it might have 
been a dangerous, hurt given to Phil. One day at recess the 
boys had a "rush," and in the crowding Pat put his foot under 
Phil's ankle and tripped him. Phil fell down and was severely 
trodden by others who could not avoid him. The coward was 
away in an instant, but Phil knew who did it. " Never mind," 
he said to one of his friends, who helped him to arise, " I'll pay 
him some day." 

A little tattler, who was very much afraid of Pat and ready 
to curry favor with him, overheard Phil's threat, and ran to Pat 
with a report of it. Pat watched Phil closely. The latter took 
care to be just to Pat, and whenever there was a good recitation 
from him the true credit was given ; but deficiency was most 
frequently the report. 

One day Phil kindly said, " Pat, I'll show you how to get 
this lesson if you'll try it." 

" Don't want to get any lesson," answered Pat, giving Phil 
a look of hatred. 

" Well, I'll report you as failed," said Phil boldly and 
frankly. 



MERCY. 



209 



Pat angrily retorted, "The day's coming when I'll have it 
out with you." 

" If you mean any trouble," said Phil, " you be sure that Tm 
going to defend myself and strike just as hard as I can in doing 
so. Maybe you'll get hurt." 

So there was not much love lost between these two. Phil 
could have no respect for Pat. 

A day came when Pat was not at school, and one of the boys 
said that he saw crape on the door of Pat's home. It was soon 
learned that Mr. Strong was dead. After the funeral was over, 
Pat presented himself at school, but he said it was only for a 
few days, as he would have to leave and go to work somewhere, 
because his mother was poor. The bully cried as he said it, 
for he had good in him, and had loved his father in a rough 
kind of a way. Phil was teacher of the class that day. This 
wonderful good feehng of pity in us which stirs our sympathy, 
made Phil sorrowful, and it gave him the love of charity for the 
weeping boy. " See here, Pat," said he ; " you don't know 
much, and you'll have to work hard. Suppose I ask my father 
to give you a place in his store. Then, you know, you might 
come to our house in the evenings, and I'll teach you, if you'll 
learn." 

That was Phil's day when he "paid" Pat. The aforetime 
bully could only whimper out, " You're a mighty good fellow, 
Phil Faithful." 

We may hope that sorrow, and the kindness he received, 
made a turning-point in Pat's life and saved him from his worse 
self. 

We are like unto Satan when we are cruel. Unto 
whom are we like when we are merciful ? 
Our Heavenly Father. 

A gentleman once came to a friend in great anger at an 
injury he had suffered from some one of high rank on whom he 
wished to be avenged. 

"Would it not be manly to resent it.'"' the injured one 
asked. 

" Yes," answered the other, " but God-like to forgive it." 



210 



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VII. — PHILANTHROPY. 

And Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their syna- 
gogues, and preaching the gospel pf the kingdom, and healing every sickness 
and every disease among the people. 

But when He saw the multitudes. He was moved with compassion on 
them because they fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no 
shepherd. — St. Matt. 9 : 35, 36. 

Abou spoke more low : 
. . . " I pray thee, then, 
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." 
\ — Leigh Hunt. 

Our lesson to-day is to be on a development or 
growth of justice and mercy. We have a long name 
for our subject ; it is called philanthropy. 

I. The meaning of this long word is the love of 
mankind. 

Brotherliness will grow into philanthropy from the 
thought of all men being brethren, because we are 
children of our one Heavenly Father. 

The very simple word mankind teaches us some- 
thing here. When we put "man" and ''kind" to- 
gether to make that word, the "kind" means ki7t. 
And so the word expresses the idea that all men are 
related to one another ; that we are all of one 
family. 

With this truth in mind, let us recall the meaning 
of sympathy which we had in our lesson on brotherli- 
ness. What was it } 



PHIL ANTHR OP Y. 



211 



Feeling with another ; rejoicing with tJiem that 
rejoice, and zveeping with them that weep. 

A little girl went to her Sunday-school, and when she came 
home her mother asked her what she had done at school ; and 
she, in the simplicity of her little soul, said, — 

" Oh, dear mother, I am afraid I have done nothing ; for you 
know there was little Mary Curtis, whose baby brother was 
buried last week, and she was sorry, and she cried so that I 
cried with her, and I took her hands in mine and kissed her, 
but it took all the lesson out of my head ; and poor Sarah 
Mills, who is always behind with her lessons, had them this 
morning quite perfect, and she was so happy, that although she 
got more tickets than I did, I was quite glad too." 

" My dear," said the happy mother, "you have fulfilled the 
apostle's injunction ; you have wept with those that weep, and 
rejoiced with those that rejoice." 

We come now to learn that sympathy must be 
extended to the whole family of our Heavenly 
Father. 

When we were studying justice and mercy, we 
were thinking of a very small circle of people ; those 
only with whom we deal or whom we meet. If our 
mind be impressed with the true thought that all 
men are brethren, our feelings of justice and mercy 
reach them. We begin to think how much injustice 
and cruelty are in this large world on which we live. 
The feeling of sympathy with all suffering ones 
everywhere must then begin to stir our hearts. 

Thinking about the world in this way, is simply 
trying to see by our mind all the people of the world, 
what they are doing, how they are living, and learn- 
ing thus that very many are suffering ones. 

We cannot help asking why so many are in sorrow- 



212 



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ful conditions. We find it is because some of them 
are sick, or ignorant, or wicked ; and as we read and 
learn further, we also find that many suffer from 
injustice and cruelty. 

Thus brotherliness reaches philanthropy. With 
sympathy for all kinds of wretchedness, we begin to 
wish to do all we can to help suffering men, women, 
and children. When that wish comes to possess 
our heart, we are philanthropists. 

Really, then, philanthropy is only brotherliness 
fully grown with our larger learning, and justice and 
mercy acting together in our heart. 

11. The work of mercy which philanthropy leads 
us to do is very large. 

An old table gives us seven works of philanthropy. 
They are : — 

1. To tend the sick. 

2. To feed the hungry. 

3. To give drink to the thirsty. 

4. To clothe the naked. 

5. To house the homeless. 

6. To visit the fatherless and the afflicted, 

7. To bury the dead. 

There is a drawing four hundred years old in one 
of the museums of Europe, which shows these seven 
works of mercy. It is a very curious picture. There 
are eight little houses, four on each side of a street. 
Latin texts from our Saviour's teaching are on the 
houses. In No. i the sick brought in from the street 
are being nursed on beds ; it is a little hospital. In 
No. 2 people are being clothed. In No. 3 travellers 
are getting drink. In No. 4 the hungry are receiving 



PHILANTHROPY. 



213 



bread. In No. 5 pilgrims are being housed for the 
night. In No. 6 a dead body is being prepared 
for burial. In No. 7 prisoners are shown as being 
visited. In No. 8 Christians are receiving the Lord's 
Supper, because Christ is regarded as the beginning 
and end of these good works. 

This interesting picture is thought to have been 
the work of one of the greatest and best of men who 
ever lived, Savonarola of Florence. 

We may make the old table of philanthropic works 
longer by adding three others. It will then become 
a table of ten works. We may say : — 

8. To teach the ignorant. 

9. To reform the wicked. 

10. To reform the wrong customs of society. 

III. If we are to help in doing any of these works 
of philanthropy, we shall have to make sacrifice of 
something. 

We must give money, or food, or clothing, or our 
time and strength. 

The easiest sacrifice to make is that of our money 
or what it will purchase. A higher sacrifice is that 
of our ease, — of our time and strength. 

The very easiest work is to give to a beggar or to 
a society established for doing good. We should not 
fail to do that when it is right. But where we can, 
let us add the other sacrifice of time and energy. 

In doing this we should try to find out where 
others cannot help themselves. The wisest philan- 
thropic help is that which puts those aided in the way 
of helping themselves. We should try to discover 
means for giving every one fair play in the world. 



214 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



We must remember the incurables who never can 
be brought to help themselves. They should be 
supported and nursed as tenderly as possible. 

IV. Philanthropy brings us very near to the 
Heavenly Father. 

1. He takes the work as done to himself. 

The verse at the head of our lesson is from a Per- 
sian story put into a poem. Here is the story : — 

Abou-ben-Adhem slept, and a vision came to him in his 
slumber. A shining angel stood before him, holding a book 
in his hand, in which, from time to time, he inscribed somewhat. 

" What writest thou ?" asked Adhem of his heavenly visitor. 

" The names of those that love the Lord," replied the angel. 

"Is my name in thy book " demanded Adhem anxiously. 

The angel sorrowfully shook his head. 

Adhem sighed heavily. Then a light illumined his counte- 
nance. "Holy one," said he, "write me down, I pray thee, as 
one that loves his fellow-men." 

The angel wrote, and vanished. 

In the days that followed, when the Book was opened, and 
the names of those who loved the Lord were made known, 
Abou-ben-Adhem's name stood first on the list. 

Do not let us make the mistake of putting our 
fellow-men in the place of God ; but let us learn that 
our Heavenly Father has placed Himself so near to 
His children that a good deed done to them is done 
also to Him. Let us hear what our Saviour says. 
(St. Matt. 25 : 34-45.) 

2. It is God's own work that a wise philanthropist 
does. We may become His agents. A Paris paper 
had this piece of news : — 

In one of the narrow streets near the Marche St. Honore, 
resides a poor working family who have lately been laboring 



PHILANTHROPY. 



215 



under great distress. The wife has been for some time ill, and 
the husband has just met with an accident which has prevented 
him from following his usual occupation, so that his family of 
five children often suffered from hunger. Among the children 
was a little intelligent girl who every day attended the charity 
school, but who has been lately obliged to stop at home to 
attend, as best she could, to her little brothers. She had been 
taught at school that those in distress ought to address them- 
selves to God, and the idea entered her mind that if she sent a 
letter to God, relief would follow. She therefore got pen, ink, 
and paper, and wrote the letter, asking for health for her parents 
and bread for herself and brothers. Thinking that the poor-box 
which she had seen in the Church of St. Roche was the letter- 
box of God, she took an opportunity of stealing quietly out of 
the room and running off to the church. While looking round 
to see that no one was near, an elderly lady noticed her move- 
ments, and, thinking she was at some mischief, stopped her and 
inquired what she was doing. After some hesitation, she con- 
fessed the object of her visit to the church, and showed the letter. 
The lady took it, and promised the child that she would take 
care that it should reach its destination, asking at the same time 
to what address the answer must be sent, which the child gave, 
and returned home with a hght heart. On the following morn- 
ing, on opening the door of the room, she found a large basket 
filled with different articles of wearing apparel, sugar, money, 
etc., the whole packed up with a direction card, on which was 
written Reponse du bon Dieu'*'' (Answer of the good God). 
Some hours after, a medical man also came to give advice. 

The good lady did not probably mean to deceive 
the child, any more than a fairy story would deceive 
a child for a little while. She must have thought 
that the mother would explain it all. There was, 
however, a true sense in which the letter did go to 
God, and the answer did come from Him. 

We may learn to be philanthropists at home, where 
we may practise many beautiful lessons. 



2l6 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



A little fellow was asked what he was "doing for 
the Lord," and replied that he had been "trying to 
make baby happy, so she wouldn't cry and disturb 
my sick mother." 

There is a story told by Jean Ingelow of a young 
girl who learned the lesson of philanthropy from 
deep sorrow that came to her home, and it shows 
how "she did what she could" for long years after- 
ward. 

Off the coast of one of the Orkney Islands, and right opposite 
the harbor, stood a lonely rock, against which, in stormy weather, 
the boats of returning fishermen often struck and were lost. 

Fifty years ago there lived on this island a young girl in a 
cottage with her father; and they loved each other very ten- 
derly. One stormy night the father was away on the sea in his 
fisherman's boat, and, though his daughter watched for him in 
great fear and trouble, he did not come home. Sad to tell, in 
the morning his dead body was found washed upon the beach. 
His boat, as he sought the harbor, had struck against the 
" Lonely Rock," and gone down. 

In her deep sorrow, this fisherman's orphan did not think of 
herself alone. She was scarcely more than a child, humble, 
poor and weak; but she said in her heart that, while she lived, 
no more boats should be lost off the " Lonely Rock," if a light, 
shining through her window, would guide them safely into the 
harbor. And so, after watching by the body of her father, 
according to the custom of her people, until it was buried, she 
lay down and slept through the day ; but when night fell, arose 
and hghted a candle, placed it in the window of her cottage, so 
that it might be seen by any fisherman coming in from sea, and 
guide him safely into harbor. She sat by the candle all night, 
and trimmed it and spun; but, when the day dawned, she went 
to bed and slept. 

As many hanks as she had spun before for her daily bread 
she spun still, and one over, to buy her nightly candle; and from 
that time to this, for fifty years, through youth, maturity, and old 



PHI LA NTH R OP V. 



217 



age, she has turned night into day, and in the snow-storms of 
winter, through driving mists, deceptive moonHght, and solemn 
darkness, that northern harbor has never once been without the 
light of her candle. 

How many lives she saved by this candle, and how many 
meals she won by it for the starving families of the boatmen, it 
is impossible to say. How many dark nights the fishermen, de- 
pending on it, have gone forth, cannot now be told. There it 
stood, regular as a light-house, steadily as constant care could 
make it. Always brighter when daylight waned, the fishermen 
had only to keep it constantly in view and were safe; there was 
but one thing to intercept it, and that was the rock. However 
far they might have gone out to sea, they had only to bear down 
for that lighted window, and they were sure of a safe entrance to 
the harbor. 

But what do the boatmen and the boatmen's wives think of 
this ? Do they pay the poor woman ? No ; they are very poor ; 
but poor or rich, they know better than that. Do they thank 
her ? No. Perhaps they think that thanks of theirs would be 
inadequate to express their gratitude ; or perhaps long years 
have made the lighted casement so familiar, that they look upon 
it as a matter of course, and forget for the time the patient 
watcher within. 

There is another story of a poor sick woman, well 
worth remembering. It is called 

Burning One's Own House. 

Would any one dare to set his house on fire ? 

Whoever wants the pleasure of spending several years on 
bread and water behind locks and bolts, may do it. Whoever 
wants an uneasy conscience, so that he will rush back in terror 
at the sounds of wind through the house or rustle of leaves on 
the trees, may set his house on fire. 

But once an old woman burnt her house, and did not get be- 
hind locks and bolts, nor did she lose a peaceful conscience, but 
she received the warm thanks of many, many people. 

It happened in this way. 



2l8 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Do you know of Husum ? Husum is a city on the western 
coast of Schleswig, hence on the North Sea. 

Any one fond of oysters must go to Husum, for there he may 
always be sure of a treat. 

Winter brings to Husum every year a great deal of ice. 
Once it was so cold that a part of the marshy strand was cov- 
ered with beautiful smooth ice. The skaters of Husum gave 
themselves up to pleasure, as if it were a holiday. Those who 
could not skate learned how, or enjoyed their attempts at it. 

At length a great festival was arranged, pavilions were built, 
and everything that would refresh either cold or warm disposi- 
tions was provided on the ice. Husum had never seen such 
times. And now came off the event. All v/ho had legs used 
them on ice. The little oyster city was as empty as a church after 
Sunday service. The people sang, frolicked, danced, laughed, 
drank, caroused, as they sped with winged feet over the smooth 
pond, all unconscious of a Httle white cloud yonder in the sky, 
or of the sick woman in an old house on the dyke. 

From her bed she could watch the ever-moving throng on the 
ice ; but she also saw the Httle cloud, and knew it meant some- 
thing, for she had in her younger days taken many vo3^ages with 
her husband, and had helped in many a fish and oyster catch. 
She saw that soon several clouds followed behind the little one, 
and uniting with it became a great cloud, as if a thunder-storm 
were coming up. In half an hour the flood would be upon them. 
If the people were not off the ice, few would be left to eat their 
evening meal in Husum. The sick woman shouted as loud as 
she could, but no answer came. The joyous skaters saw and 
heard nothing. Only a few minutes more, and the raging sea 
would hide hundreds in its watery embrace. Then the good 
mother, gathering up all her strength, reached for her tinder 
bag, pushed a firebrand into her bed, and dragged herself with 
difficulty out of the house. In a moment the bright flames 
blazed up ; those on the ice seeing it rushed to the land to save 
the house. Scarcely had the last foot touched the dry ground, 
when, with a mighty crash, the flood broke through the ice — and 
all were saved. They had come to rescue the sick woman, but 
she had rescued them. 



PHILANTHR OP V. 



2ig 



And now ? 

Well, yes. The people of Husum were thankful to God and 
to the good old woman, and provided her a new home, with food 
and tender care. 

There have been some grand heroes of philanthropy 
who spent their lives in relieving the sorrows of 
humanity. If there were time, you ought to be told 
the story of John Howard, — how he travelled all 
over Europe, visiting filthy dungeons and hospitals, 
and giving more than one hundred thousand dollars 
for the relief of the imprisoned and the sick. Do 
not forget his name, and read of him some time. 
Also read of Florence Nightingale. 

We can all do something. 

A young lady who had been thrown from a carriage was ill 
in bed for ten years ; but her hands were free, and with her free 
hands she knit little gloves for poor children. It was only help- 
ing to keep warm some little fingers that would, otherwise, have 
been very cold in winter. But it was all she was able to do, and 
it was done with a loving heart and as a service of the Lord. 
No one is so humble or poor or weak as not to be able to do 
something. 

Even children who can only try to speak kindly to 
every one, are learning to become philanthropists in 
doing so. 

Let us not forget that our Saviour sacrificed Him- 
self for the world. The scene of the cross, as we 
looked upon it in our last lesson, is the highest mercy 
and the greatest picture of philanthropy the earth 
has ever known. And let us bear in mind the fact 
shown in our Scripture text, that our Lord's life in 
the world was one of constant philanthropy. He 
loved men, and He lived and died for them. 



220 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



VIII.— COURTESY. 

Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; charity vaunteth 
not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her 
own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil. — i Cor. 13 : 4, 5. 

Courtesy was born and had her name 

In princely halls ; 
But her purest life may be the same 

In humble w^alls. 

— Ira Howard. 

As philanthropy is the highest of all duty to our 
fellow-men, we might think that there was nothing 
further to learn in this class of duties. 

Richter, a German, said, "The last, best fruit 
which comes to late perfection, even in the kindliest 
soul, is tenderness toward the hard, forbearance 
toward the unforgiving, warmth of heart toward the 
cold, and philanthropy toward the misanthropic," — 
the misanthropic being those who do not love their 
fellow-men ; misanthropy the opposite of philanthropy. 

There are, however, two other duties growing out 
of brotherliness and philanthropy, which we must 
study. One of these is Courtesy. 

I. The origin or beginning of the word will help 
us to get correctly its meaning. It comes from the 
word court ; this being given as the name of the circle 
of people who lived at the court of a king, or who 
visited a king and his queen on familiar terms. Such 
persons cultivated good manners, politeness, civility 



COURTESY. 



221 



towards each other. This made them behave like 
gentlemen and ladies, if it did not always make them 
such. 

In studying courtesy we learn that all our duties 
to others should be performed in a beautiful and 
pleasing manner. Some persons seem to think that 
they do all that is required when they perform a duty, 
even though it be done quite rudely. This is much 
worse than the behavior of a dog who is glad to see 
you, and jumps on you with muddy paws. He means 
well, and does not know any better. 

A boy was called from play by his mother to do 
some little task for her. He obeyed, but he was re- 
luctant, and came with tardy step and sour look, 
grumbling as he came. That kind of obedience was 
not pleasing to his mother. 

A gentleman was walking with General Washington after the 
General had become President, and they met a colored man who 
took off his hat to the President. General Washington courte- 
ously returned the bow. 

" What ! " said the gentleman, " do you return the bow of a 
slave?" 

" Certainly," repHed the great man. " I would not be less 
polite than a poor negro." 

Of course it was President Washington's duty to 
recognize the bow ; but suppose he had done so with 
a gruff Halloa, Sam ! " That would have been very 
ugly, though the ignorant man might have been sat- 
isfied with it. But the bow sent the humble fellow 
on his way happy and smiling. 

General Washington had a courteous return for his courtesy 
from a little girl who was opening her mother's door to let him 
pass out. " Thank you, my dear," said he. Her reply was, " I 
wish, sir, it was to let you in." 



222 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Now, that was very clever as well as very polite. 
We have only found that the outside of courtesy is 
politeness. Politeness means having 2. polish. What 
common name have we for politeness ? 

Good manners. 

Good manners are quite important ; but do not 
think that we have reached the end of courtesy in 
good manners. A graceful bow, a handsome move- 
ment, a pretty speech, and such like things, may be 
mere sham. One may be beautiful and pleasing in 
manner, only to show himself off. 

11. It will help us to get the true idea of courtesy 
if we learn how it is cultivated. 

When we do not like a duty, how can we do it in a 
^ pleasing way without hypocrisy ? That boy called in 
from play by his mother, did not wish to obey ; how 
should he have acted } Surely he ought to have con- 
quered his reluctance. He might have said pleas- 
antly, " Well, mother, I wish to please you, only it is 
so hard to leave my play." 

We must go beyond good manners to get courtesy 
as well as to reach a true idea of it. Genuine court- 
esy comes out of that in us which philanthropy 
gives us ; and that is respect for others. 

Here we are, all brothers at the court of the King 
of kings ; and our courtesy must come out of re- 
spect for others, if it is to be true. 

It is not respect for one above us, if we tease a 
parent or teacher to let us off from duty. That is 
the same as saying that a command is wrong and 
unkind. 

Good manners are only the appearance of courtesy ; 



COURTESY. 



223 



the root of it is respect for others. We must bear in 
mind the "respect for others " all through this lesson. 

Having learned the root, perhaps we can get 
here a full idea of courtesy. It is informing and 
helping others, and pleasing tJiein at the same time. 
We have learned in other lessons much about inform- 
ing and helping others ; now we learn that we are to 
do these things, not in an ugly way or even with a 
thoughtless manner, but in a studied and pleasing 
way. And that because we respect those whom we 
inform and help. 

Here is a story of a boy who did these three things 
— he informed and helped and pleased another, at 
one and the same time. 

A little black boy was hired by a marketman who was not 
thoughtful, and would give the boy harder work than was suited 
to his age and strength. A basket of oysters was bought by a 
gentleman whose address was tied to the basket. The boy was 
told, just at noon when schools are dismissed, to take the oys- 
ters to the gentleman's house. As oysters are heavy, the boy 
was helped to place the basket on his head, where he steadied 
it with his hand, but where he could not read the card. After 
going some litde distance he forgot the number of the house, 
but remembered the name of the buyer. Meeting some boys 
who were coming from school, while he was ready to groan 
under his burden, he asked if they could tell him where Mr. 
Thomas lived. " Do you mean Mr. Thomas Thumb 'i " said 
one mockingly, " for he lives with Mr. Barnum." The rest 
laughed. Then said another, " No, fellows, he means Mr. 
Thomas Cat, and he lives in the same house with our teacher." 
The burdened black boy turned away with something of an angry 
mutter, and that provoked one of the set to mahcious mischief. 
He reeled against the errand-boy, who was pushed enough to 
upset the basket. As the oysters rolled over the pavement, the 
boys burst into loud laughter. Then came upon the scene a 



224 



THE RIGHT ROAD, 



noble fellow, Harry Tender, strong enough to thrash any one 
of them. " Get away from this ! " said he to the white boys, in 
tones that were not courteous ; and away they scampered. 

" Now, boy, let me help you up with that basket," said he to 
the little black who had gathered the oysters back into it. 

" Thank you, sir. I was trying to find out where Mr. 
Thomas lives. His number was on this card, but the wet and 
slime from the oysters have rubbed it all over." 

" I'll show you where he lives ; I'm going right by there," said 
Harry. " And now we'll not put the basket on your head, but 
take hold of it together and carry it to Mr. Thomas's gate." 

" You're so very good ! " said the black boy, as he felt all the 
tired and injured feeling go out of him. The boy was informed, 
helped and pleased by Harry Tender. 

These three things, informing, helping, and pleas- 
ing others, remind us of our lessons on culture and 
philanthropy. To inform and help others, in great 
matters at least, we must be learned and skilful. 
To have the spirit of pleasing others, we must be 
generous and charitable. 

There are three points, then, to which we must 
give attention, and we should try not to forget them : 

1. We must be generous, that we may wish to 
please. 

2. We must become learned, that we may have 
information to give. 

3. We must become skilful, that we may be able 
to help. 

Now we have found that true politeness is a polish 
given to our soul. When we get this polish in its 
highest state, then our informing and helping others 
is naturally done hi a beautiful mmmer. Thus we 
reach courtesy. 

III. A matter of importance for us to notice is 



COURTESY. 



225 



that courtesy is especially careful of the feelings of 
those who are below our station in life. Remembe? 
that it comes from that holy philanthropy which 
gives us respect for all men. 
Here is a story of a rude boy. 

At the foot of a street stood an Italian with a hand-organ. 
Ten or twelve boys gathered around him, more filled with mirth- 
fulness than courtesy. One, less noble than the rest, said to his 
fellows, " See ! I'll hit his hat." 

And sure enough, he did. Catching up a snow-ball he threw 
it so violently that the poor man's hat was knocked in the gutter. 
A bystander expected to see some manifestation of anger. The 
musician stepped forward and picked up his hat. He then 
turned to the rude boy, bowed gracefully, and said, " And now 
I'll play you a tune to make you merry." 

Which do you think was the gentleman or Christian ? 

That boy was wanting in respect for a poor man. 
Here is a story of another kind of a boy. 

It was a hot July morning, and old Mrs. Dawes, carrying the 
clean hnen home to the rectory, thought her basket seemed 
heavier than usual. Johnnie Leigh, the son of the village doctor, 
overtook her half-way up the hill. 

" Why, mother," said he, " that's more than you can manage ! 
Let me have one handle, and then we'll trot it up easily enough." 

Away they went, Johnnie chatting gayly, and the old woman's 
face beaming with gratitude and pleasure. 

"The idea!" said Fanny Leigh, who came down the lane 
just in time to see her brother and Mrs. Dawes turn in at the 
rectory gate. "You are a gentleman, Johnnie. Supposing 
Lady Blake had met you carrying a clothes-basket ! How could 
you do it ? " 

Johnnie whistled. 

" A gentleman ? Of course I am. I am a Bible-gentleman, 
like father." 

Fanny looked puzzled, so Johnnie explained. 



226 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



" Father said that a Bible-gentleman is always civil to poor 
people as well as rich ones ; and poor old Mrs. Dawes is my 
' neighbor ' just as much as Lady Blake." 

Why should we be more careful to extend courtesy 
to the ignorant and the lowly ? Should we not be 
equally courteous to every one It is true that 
courtesy should be the same towards each and all. 
But we have to be more mindful and pains-taking 
with the ignorant, because they need more thought 
from us. The timid require more care in courtesy 
than do the bold. The lowly may misunderstand 
courtesy, and it may wound their feelings unless we 
are thoughtful. 

We must show natural and not studied respect. 
We must show respect, and not condescerision. 

Sarah Lofty met May Penny at a party given by a mutual 
friend. Sarah said to herself, " I'm not going to slight May 
because she is cheaply dressed and her father has to work for 
my father." And so Sarah, in a beautiful and costly frock with 
other apparel to match it, was very attentive to May, whose 
gown, though not shabby, was a cheap affair. Sarah meant 
well, but she did not know how to play her generous part. She 
made May think of the difference between them. She did not 
say the words, but May's mind received this as Sarah's thought : 
" My father's richer than your father ; you are not dressed very 
well; you don't belong to our set ; but I'm going to be good to 
you, for all that." Sarah would not have said such a thing : she 
was too good for that ; but she showed it in a forced tone and 
manner which were not respect for May but condescension to 
her. If she had only been polite and stayed away from May 
until attracted to her, Sarah would not have had such a thought, 
and could not have impressed May as she did. May went home 
unhappy, wishing that her father were a rich man. She was 
only soothed when she thought that she would not exchange her 
father, poor as he was, for any other girl's father. 



COURTESY. 



227 



IV. The absence of courtesy may be excused if 
another person will not heed a courteous assertion of 
our rights. If one should claim our property, and 
we could not move him to listen to our words court- 
eously given, we might have to assert our right in 
very positive language. 

The absence of courtesy may be excused when 
holy anger must denounce cruel wickedness? 

The rule which excuses us from any duty is this : 
sometimes a higher duty to the cause of righteous- 
ness makes it impossible for us to do some other 
duty. 

Our text shows us how important courtesy is. 
This is especially seen in the words, " doth not behave 
itself unseemly." St. Paul is speaking of Christian 
charity," that is love or sympathy. 
The character of a Christian gentleman or lady is 
a very high one. We cannot go astray in finding 
that character if we study well the life of Jesus 
Christ. How gentle He was with the poor and the 
sick and the sinftd! There was an occasion when 
His gentleness was hidden for a few moments. It 
was when a Gentile woman came begging that her 
daughter might be healed, and He said, " It is not 
meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it 
to dogs." But his gentleness was there all the 
time ; He only hid it to make her faith grow so that 
it might become great faith. There were times when 
He had to lay aside gentleness altogether ; when He 
drove the blasphemous traders from the Temple, and 
when He denounced those who cheated widows and 
for a pretence made long prayers. 



228 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



A beautiful picture of ancient courtesy is found 
in Gen. 23 : 3-16. 

Here is a story from which we may learn some- 
thing : — 

A mother tied on her little girl's bonnet, and sent her out to 
play with an older brother ; saying, Be very gentle with her, 
my son." 

They^iad not been out very long before Julius came in, threw 
down his hat, and exclaimed, " I hate playing with girls ! 
There's no fun in them ; they cry in a minute." 

" What have you been doing to your sister ? Why, you've 
pushed her down on the gravel-walk, and her frock is torn," said 
the mother as she looked through the window. " I am afraid 
you forgot to be gentle." 

" Gentle ! Boys can't be gentle, mother ; it's their nature to 
be rough and strong. They're the stuff soldiers and sailors are 
made of. It's very well to talk of a gentle girl, but a gentle boy 
— it sounds ridiculous ! I should be provoked if a fellow called 
me so." 

You would ? Why, a few years from now, and you would be 
hurt if any one were to say that you were not a gentle-7nan. 
Suppose some one should say that your father is not a 
gentleman ! " 

" I never thought of it that way," said the boy. " Being 
gentle always seemed to me like being soft and weak." 

" This is so far from the truth, my boy, that you will always 
find the bravest men are the most gentle. The spirit of the 
knights was a spirit of the noblest courage and the greatest 
gentleness. Perhaps you would rather be called a manly boy 
than a gentle boy." 

" Yes, that's it, mother." 

" Suppose you put the two together. Be manly when you are 
in danger ; be manly when you must speak the truth ; be manly 
when you are in pain. At the same time be gentle, whether you 
are with girls or boys. By putting the two together, perhaps 
you will have a name that you will not dislike." 

" I see, mother — a gentlemmily boy." 



GRA TJTUDE. 



22g 



IX. — GRATITUDE. 



And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed ? but where are the 
nine? There are not found that returned to give glory to God, save this 
stranger. — St. Luke 17 : 17, 18. 

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is 
To have a thankless child ! 

— Shakspeare. 

We have been learning what is the only true spirit 
of social life. Duties to our fellow-men teach us that 
if mankind is to live in society, we must be unlike 
the brutes ; "we must give and take." Some of the 
lower animals do live together in flocks or herds 
quite peaceably ; but many brutes are ugly and selfish, 
and cannot get along together in peace and quietness. 
Cats, dogs, lions, tigers, fight one another in the 
efforts of each to get everything for himself. When 
one of them is hungry, he cannot see the rights of 
other hungry ones. 

Social life may be like a war ; and that is when 
people are quarrelling. 

Social life may be like a selfish game, like a great 
gambling community ; and that is when some are 
trying to win their gains by defeating or out-scheming 
others. 

What good and wise person wishes social life to be 
a war or a gambling society } The good people would 
soon be cheated out of almost everything by the bad ; 
the weak would be at the mercy of the strong. 



230 



THE RIGHT KG AD. 



Social life should lead us to live together in peace 
and brotherliness. Three things are required from 
every one to make social life what it should be : giv- 
ing, receiving, and thanking. Remember these three 
words. 

Every one does not these things ; but every good 
member of society will do them, and we wish to be 
such members. The greater the number of good 
members of society, the better society will be. 

Let us understand what is meant by these three 
words as we apply them to the duties of people in 
social life. 

I. Giving. We are so ready to think only of alms 
to the poor, and of presents to friends, as being the 
gifts of social life.- But the gifts are much more 
than these. Think of the high charity and noble 
philanthropy we have studied, and how these bid us 
give the good in us to society, and to any one we 
meet. Here is a boy who gave. A gentleman 
told this : — 

Two little boys were fighting for the possession of a newly- 
cut stick, and I was about to interfere as the strife was waxing 
very hot, when I saw a boy a few years their senior come up, 
stop the fight, and arraigning the boys before him, as before a 
just judge, ask for an explanation, and, after hearing the evidence 
on both sides, give the stick into the hands of the boy to whom 
it rightfully belonged ; then, tempering justice with mercy, he 
turned to the disappointed child, and putting his arm about him, 
said, " Never mind, I will cut you one the next time I go to the 
woods." 

This boy gave justice, and mercy, and peace. 
It is a poor philanthropy that stands idle in wish- 
ing for a large field like that in which Howard worked. 



GRA TITUDE. 



231 



We must be ready to give to those whom we meet 
every day. Be friendly to every one ! One may 
need our help, another merely the courage we give 
by a smile and a kind word. In company a song may 
give pleasure. If so, and we can sing, let us give the 
song. Let us be ready to give the good in us. Now, 
perhaps, we know what giving in social life means. 

2. Receiving. With the true idea of what giving 
is, we ought to have no trouble in finding what 
receiving means. In the case of the two boys who 
were fighting for the stick, one received justice, the 
other received mercy, and both received peace. 

We cannot live in society without receiving. We 
receive from fathers and mothers, from friends and 
neighbors. The good and great who have lived 
before us have done very much for us ; we can only 
with difficulty imagine how hard our lives would have 
been unless we had received from them. A good 
book written hundreds of years ago, helps us to-day. 
We are all the time receiving. Everybody who 
makes us cheerful is giving us something ; and in 
being made cheerful we are receiving. 

3. Thanki7ig. We are to try to find the full mean- 
ing of thanking in the study of gratitude. We shall 
find that it grows out of brotherliness, justice, and 
philanthropy. 

I. Gratitude means being thankful. 

It is not only speaking our thanks out of what is 
often called politeness ; it is being full of thanks, 
which is thankful. 

There are so manv ways in which we receive, and 
so many ways by which we can pay thanks, that a 



232 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



great number of stories might be told to show all 
this to us. Sarah Tucker gives us one of a child 
who was shown what she received from a deceased 
ancestor, and how she could pay thanks to some 
who should live after her. 

" Do you suppose, grandpa," said a little girl, "if I should 
plant this peach-stone, a peach-tree would really grow here in 
the garden } " 

"It would be pretty likely to grow, I imagine," said the 
grandfather. 

The child mused a moment, then said, "Well, I think I 
won't trouble to do it, for I might be dead before the tree was 
big enough to bear peaches ; " and she raised her little hand to 
throw the stone away. 

" Stop ! " said her grandfather ; " was that a good peach ? " 

" Splendid one, grandpa." 

" A good many years ago, little girl, my father was a boy, and 
standing right here on this very farm, ate a fine peach. ' I will 
plant this stone,' he said, 'instead of throwing it away.' So he 
planted it, and to-day the little girl he never saw eats of its 
fruit. Those tall elm-trees by the gate, which make such a 
pleasant shade for us, he planted and watched for years. I don't 
believe he ever said, ' I won't water these little slender trees 
any more, for I shall be dead before they are big enough to keep 
off the sun.' " 

The sticky httle hand opened, and two great blue eyes gazed 
curiously at the stone ; then, suddenly, without a word, she 
darted away into the garden, and soon a hole was made in the 
black earth, and the stone dropped reverently in and covered ; 
but as she walked away, her faith must have wavered a bit, for 
a mischievous smile came to her lips, and she said, " I don't 
beheve I shall ever, have any great-grandchildren, if it does 
make a tree ; but I suppose there will be somebody always to 
eat peaches." 

Think of that story, and it will show what gratitude 
is in its largest sense. 



GRA TITUDE. 



The fable of the lion and the mouse sets gratitude 
before us in a very simple way. 

A lion, faint with heat and weary with hunting, was laid down 
to take his repose under the spreading boughs of a thick, shady 
oak. It happened that while he slept, a company of scrambling 
mice ran over his back, and waked him ; upon which, starting 
up, he clapped his paw upon one of them, and was just going to 
put it to death, when the little supphcant implored his mercy in 
a very moving manner, begging him not to stain his noble 
character with the blood of so despicable and small a beast. 
The lion, considering the matter, thought proper to do as he was 
desired, and immediately released his trembling little prisoner. 
Not long after, traversing the forest in pursuit of his prey, he 
chanced to run into the toils of the hunters, from whence, not 
able to disengage himself, he set up a most hideous and loud 
roar. The mouse hearing the noise, and knowing it to be the 
lion's, immediately repaired to the place, and bid him fear noth- 
ing, for that he was his friend. Then straight he fell to work, 
and with his sharp little teeth, gnawing asunder the knots and 
fastenings of the toils, set the royal brute at liberty. 

The fable presents more than its teaching of grati- 
tude ; it also gives a lesson in receiving. Not only 
do the small receive from the great, but great ones 
may receive very much from the least. 

II. We are to cultivate gratitude at home, in being 
thankful to parents, to brothers and sisters, and also 
to servants. 

Another field for its cultivation is found when we 
are with playmates or schoolmates. 

We cultivate it by speaking and showing our thanks. 
Sometimes we can only speak our thanksgiving. But 
we should try to show it by kindness and affection. 
The closer our lives are to others, as with those at 
home, the easier it is to be thankful in our actions. 



234 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



We must not forget this — that as a pardon may be 
locked up in our heart until it is too late to give it, so 
it may be with our words and acts of gratitude. 

A father, talking to his careless daughter, said : " I want to 
speak to you of your mother. It may be that you have noticed 
a careworn look on her face lately. Of course it has not been 
brought there by any act of yours, still it is your duty to chase 
it away. I want you to get up to-morrow morning and get break- 
fast ; and when your mother comes and begins to express her 
surprise, go right up to her and kiss her. You can't imagine 
how it will brighten her poor face. Besides, you owe her a kiss 
or two. Away back, when no one else was tempted by your 
fever-tainted breath and swollen face, she kissed you. You were 
not as attractive then as now. And through these years of sun- 
shine and shadows she was always ready to cure, by the magic of 
a mother's kiss, the little, dirty, chubby hands whenever they 
were injured in those first skirmishes with the rough old world. 
And then the midnight kiss with which she routed so many bad 
dreams, as she leaned against your restless pillow, have all been 
on interest these long, long years. Her face has more wrinkles 
than yours, far more, and yet if you were sick that face would 
appear more beautiful than an angel's as it hovered over 3'ou, 
watching every opportunity to minister to your comfort, and 
every one of those wrinkles would seem to be bright wavelets of 
sunshine chasing each other over the dear face. She will leave 
you one of these days. The burdens, if not lifted from her shoul- 
ders, will break her down. Those rough, hard hands, that have 
done so many necessary things for you, will be crossed upon 
her lifeless breast. Those neglected lips that gave you your 
first baby kiss will be forever closed, and those sad, tired eyes 
will have opened in eternity, and then you will appreciate your 
mother ; but it will be too late." 

III. We are not always grateful, because of mere 
thoughtlessness in most cases. 

A clergyman was relating, in the presence of Archbishop 
Whateley, a story of his escape from a burning vessel. 



GRA TITUDE. 



He said his escape from the flames " was a " great provi- 
dence." 

" It was, indeed," reph'ed the archbishop ; " but I can tell 
you of a greater one. I once sailed, and the vessel I was in 
didn't catch fire at all ; think of that ! " 

And so it was. To escape from the flames was a providence. 
Not to be on fire at all, was also a providence. 

That is the way we fail to think of what our 
Heavenly Father and of what our friends are always 
doing for us. 

Ingratitude is much worse than that. It is refus- 
ing to be thankful for a favor that we do bear in mind, 
and should never forget. 

To learn our lesson well, let us look at ingratitude. 
It is the most base thing we can ever find in the 
human soul. So black and ugly would be a soul that 
could not be moved to gratitude, that we should call 
the person who had such a soul a monster. We look 
for something of gratitude in a hardened person, if he 
has not lost the last spark of manhood. 

Mr. Pillsbury, one of the best prison wardens, has found 
gratitude in bad criminals. He once received into prison a man 
of gigantic stature, whose crimes had for seventeen years made 
him the terror of the country. He told the criminal, when he 
came, he hoped he would not repeat the attempts to escape which 
he had made elsewhere. " It will be best," said he, " that you and 
I should treat each other as well as we can. I will make you 
as comfortable as I possibly can, and I shall be anxious to be 
your friend ; and I hope you will not get me into difficulty on 
your account. There is a cell intended for solitary confinement ; 
but we have never used it, and I should be sorry ever to have to 
turn the key upon anybody in it. You may range the place as 
freely as I do : if you trust me, I will trust you." The man was 
sulky, and for weeks showed only gradual symptoms of softening 



236 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



under the operation of Mr. Pillsbury's cheerful confidence. At 
length information was brought of the man's intention to break 
the prison. The warden called him, and taxed him with it ; 
the man preserved a gloomy silence. He was told it was 
now necessary for him to be locked in the solitary cell, and 
desired to follow the warden, who went first, carrying a lamp in 
one hand, and a key in the other. In the narrowest part of the 
passage, Mr. Pillsbury, a small, light man, turned round and 
looked in the face of the stout criminal. " Now," said he, " I 
ask whether you have treated me as I deserve? I have done 
everything that I could to make you happy. I have trusted you, 
but you have never given me the least confidence in return, and 
have even planned to get me into difficulty. Is this kind ? And 
yet I cannot bear to lock you up. If I had the least sign that 
you cared for me " — 

The man burst into tears. 

" Sir," said he, " I have been a very demon these seventeen 
years ; but you treat me like a man." 

" Come, let us go back," said the warden. 

The convict had free range of the prison as before ; and from 
that hour he began to open his heart to the warden, and cheer- 
fully fulfilled his whole term of imprisonment. 

Cold and hard-hearted selfishness is at the bottom 
of any ingratitude. 

A boy was once threatened with a beating by a great bully, who 
was strong enough to do him serious injury. Another boy, able 
to awe the bully, came up and rescued the weaker boy. Now, 
this boy who was saved from a beating, ought to have been 
thankful to the one who befriended him, all the days of his life. 
But he was tempted by selfishness to ingratitude. He had to 
cross the path of the bully very often, and he felt that he was 
always in danger of getting a beating. He could not expect 
always to find some one to take his part, and he was very much 
afraid that he would suffer cruelly some day from the bully's 
fists. He knew how his foe hated his deliverer. To save him- 
self from the threatened danger, he made a friend of his enemy, 



GRA TITUDE. 



and joined with him against the boy who had rescued him from 
the hands of that self-same bully. It would have been better for 
that httle fellow to have taken the beating, than to become such 
a coward and such an ungrateful traitor to a friend. 

How should we feel if we helped another, and v^ere 
treated thus } 

That we had cruel treatment. 

How should we feel if we treated any one thus } 

Very meanly. 

If an ungrateful one does not care, if he only wishes 
to hide his ingratitude, that he may not be despised, 
there is no cure for him. 

The text, at the beginning of our lesson, is taken 
from the account we have of our Lord healing ten 
lepers. He sent them on their way to the priests, 
to show themselves as cured and clean men ; and, as 
they went, they were cleansed. Nine of them seem 
to have been too thoughtless to come back and thank 
our Lord. The one who did come was a Samaritan, 
whom the Jews despised as holding a- false form of 
religion. 

There is a curious legend that comes from Norway, 
and it shows how goodness received and not returned 
to others may harden our hearts. If we are only 
willing to receive, and not also ready to give and be 
thankfulj we are selfish, and we shall get hardened 
hearts. 

In " Three in Norway, by Two of Them," a pretty story is told 
of the Gertrude-bird. This woodpecker — or an ancestor of 
hers — was once a woman, and one day she was kneading bread 
in her trough, under the eaves of her house, when our Lord 
passed by, leaning on St. Peter. She did not know it was our 
Lord and His Apostle, for they looked like two poor men who 



238 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



were travelling past her cottage door. " Give us of your dough, 
for the love of God," said the Lord ; " we have come far across 
the field, and have fasted long." Gertrude pinched off a small 
piece for them, but on rolling it in the trough, to get it into 
shape, it grew and grew, and filled up the trough completely. 
" No," said she, " that is more than you want ; " so she pinched 
off a smaller piece, and rolled it out as before, but the smaller 
piece filled up the trough just as the other had done, and Ger- 
trude laid it aside, too, and pinched a smaller bit still. But the 
miracle was just the same; the smaller bit filled up the trough 
as full as the largest-sized kneading that she had ever put into 
it. Gertrude's heart was hardened still more ; she put that 
aside, too, resolving, as soon as the stranger left her, to divide 
all her dough into little bits, and to roll it out into great loaves. 
" I cannot give you any to-day," said she. " Go on your 
journey ; the Lord prosper you ; but you must not stop at my 
house." 

Then her eyes were opened, and she saw whom she had for- 
bidden to come into the house, and fell down on her knees. 
But the Lord said : " I gave you plenty, but that hardened your 
heart, so plenty was not a blessing to you. I will try you now 
with the blessing of poverty ; you shall henceforth seek your food 
day by day, and always between the wood and the bark " (allud- 
ing to the custom of mixingthe inner rind of the birch with their 
rye meal in times of scarcity). "But, forasmuch as 1 see your 
penitence is sincere, this shall not be forever ; as soon as your 
back is entirely clothed with mourning this shall cease, for by 
that time you will have learnt to use your gifts rightly." 

Gertrude flew from the presence of the Lord, for she was 
already a bird, but her feathers were even now blackened from 
her mourning; and from that time forward she and her descend- 
ants have all the year round sought their food between the wood 
and the bark ; but the feathers of their back and wings get more 
mottled with black as they grow older, and when the white is 
quite covered, the Lord takes them to his own again. 

No Norwegian will ever hurt a Gertrude-bird, for she is 
always under the Lord's protection, though He is punishing her 
for a time. 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 



X.— KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 

A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast ; but the tender mercies of 
the wicked are cruel. — Prov. 12 : 10. 

He prayeth well who loveth well 

Both man, and bird, and beast ; 
He prayeth best who loveth best 

All things, both great and small ; 
For the dear God who loveth us, 

He made and loveth all. 

— Coleridge. 

We have noticed that a little child first learns that 
he himself is, then that he has parents and friends. 
The next thing observed is that there are animals. 
There may be a cat, a dog, or a bird in the house. 
Or, when the child is taken to the window, animals 
are seen. Then the next thing for us to study is 
kindness to animals. 

I. Let us regard all the animals for whom we 
should care as our fellows. They are with us fellow- 
creatures of our Heavenly Father. 

A boy was tormenting a kitten. His little sister, in deep 
sympathy with the young and suffering animal, said, " O Phil, 
don't do that ! It is God's kitten." 

" I never thought of that before," said the brother. 

Miss La Flesche, the educated daughter of an Omaha chief, 
told to a friend this little story, to illustrate the method by which 
the red man trains his children. " I remember," she said, " the 
first time I ever heard the name of God. I was a very little 
girl, playing about the tents one summer's day, when I found a 
hurt bird lying on the ground. It was a fledgling that had fallen 



240 THE RIGHT ROAD. 

from the tree and fluttered some distance from the nest. * Ah,' 
I thought, ' now this is mine.' I was dehghted, and ran about 
with it in my hands. 

" ' What have you there, Lugette ? ' said one of the men, who 
was at work in the field. 

" ' It is a bird. It is mine,' I said. 

"He lool<ed at it. 'No, it is not yours. You must not hurt 
it. You have no right to it.' 

" ' Not mine ? ' I said. ' I found it. Whose is it, then ? ' 

" ' It is God's. If you keep it, it will die. He will cure it. 
Go and give it back to Him.' 

" I did not dare to disobey. ' Where is God ' I said. ' How 
shall I give it back to Him 1 ' 

" ' He is here. Go to the high grass yonder, near its nest, 
and lay it down, and say, " God, here is thy bird again." He 
will hear you.' 

" I went into the tall grass crying and awed, and did as he 
bade me. I laid it down on the grass in a warm, sunny spot, 
and said, ' God, here is thy little bird again.' 

" I never forgot that lesson." 

When we think of all the animals as belonging to 
God, and hence our fellow-creatures, there are some 
facts for us to bear in mind. 

1. They can suffer pain. 

2. Domestic animals are dependent on us. 

3. Brutes are dumb. 

4. Those which serve us are made better servants 
by patience and kindness. 

Look at that first fact : the Heavenly Father has 
made the animals capable of suffering pain. Every 
creature made so that it can enjoy life must also be 
able to suffer pain. Then what must be the torture 
of a fly impaled on a pin ! What must be the pain 
given by a whip when a horse is cut ! What must 
be the wretchedness of a tormented dog ! 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 



241 



Look at the second fact : domestic animals are 
dependent on us. Then remember how we were de- 
pendent in infancy and early childhood on some one 
to feed us and to look after our comfort. 

The wife of a Vice-President of the United States had to 
take her high place in society. She was required to attend par- 
ties many a time when she would rather have been at home. 
Her greatest enjoyment was the management of her own house- 
hold. Some praised her for this, others laughed at her. This 
was said of her : — 

" She is a most estimable woman, but thoroughly domestic in 
her feelings. She would rather be assured by actual observation 
that the boards of her kitchen-floor are scrubbed with the grain 
than to know that she was the best-dressed woman in Washing- 
ton. I was at an evening party with her once, and with my own 
ears heard her excuse herself, after a half-hour's stay, in these 
words : ' I have a very sick cow, and feel that my place of duty 
is at her side.' " 

Take the third fact : the brutes are dumb. They 
cannot tell us their wants or their pains. Sometimes 
by a whine or a begging look they may make known 
hunger, or show pain ; but it is a poor and pitiable 
kind of language. How our sympathy should lead 
us to think for them ! 

Some of them will submit to much pain when they 
find it is meant in kindness. In doing that they may 
be more patient and courageous than many of us. 

An elephant was found to be in danger of losing his sense of 
sight. A surgeon who had been called to examine the huge 
animal declared that if the elephant could be induced to submit 
to an operation, the eyes could be saved. Accordingly the poor 
animal was tied down, and some caustic fluid was dropped into 
one of the eyes. He roared with pain, for the treatment was 
severe. On the following day the eye that had been treated 



242 



THE RIGHT ROAD 



was much better, but the surgeon thought he was going to have 
a terrible time in operating on the other eye. Fancy his sur- 
prise to find that, as soon as the great beast heard his voice, he 
stretched himself upon the ground, and peacefully submitted to 
the painful ordeal ! The elephant simply had recognized the 
skill and friendly purpose of his benefactor. 

Look at the fourth fact : the animals which serve 
us are made better servants by our patience and kind- 
ness. That shows them to be very much like our- 
selves. 

We may really train animals to enjoy labor for us. 
We see horses which take pleasure in trotting as fast 
as they can. We see those which enjoy pulling the 
heaviest load they can move. These horses have 
been kindly trained, and have been rewarded with 
petting when they have accomplished any feat. 
Their ancestors for years have been treated in the 
same way. 

II. Cruelty to animals has a sad effect upon our- 
selves. It hardens our hearts and makes us mean 
tyrants. 

It is a very cowardly thing. Suppose the boy who 
will torment a fly to be put in charge of a lamb, and 
that a mighty eagle swooping down threatened the 
boy in order to carry away the lamb ; what would 
such a boy be most likely to do ? 

Run azvay. 

And a boy who will punish a puppy in a cruel way, 
would run from a large dog sooner than most other 
boys. 

III. But there are animals we must kill ; those 
which we must kill for food, and others which do 
harm to us. 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 243 

Such animals should be killed without giving them 
needless pain. 

As for fishing and gunning merely for sporty the 
time is coming when these will be acknowledged to 
be very barbarous. 

Again, there are animals which are cruel. Look 
at a cat prowling after a bird ! How should we treat 
the animals which prey upon others } Of course we 
should not be cruel in punishing them. We should 
make allowance for the nature of these animals. 
Where we do not need them to prey, we should try 
to teach them better. A cat may be useful to destroy 
mice, and be taught to respect birds. 

Mr. Barnum had a collection of animals which he 
called "The Happy Family." There were a dog, 
chickens, a cat, mice, birds, and other animals, all 
living together in the same cage. They ate and 
slept together in peace. 

IV. Very beautiful feelings do we find some ani- 
mals exhibiting in their relations to us. Fidelity and 
gratitude are very commonly shown by many of them. 

How much a dog can love man, and how faithful 
he can be ! We have most wonderful stories of dogs 
saving human lives. There are interesting stories 
not only of dogs which have saved drowning persons, 
or rushed upon the foes of their masters, but some 
of dogs seeming to have suspected the intentions of 
murderers and to have lain in wait for them. Most 
affecting stories are told of dogs who have done duty 
and been suspected of wrong and killed. The story 
of Llewellyn and his hound Gelert has been put into 
verse. 



244 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



The master was hunting, but Gelert had not followed him to 
the field. Gelert was a splendid dog, and Llewellyn was disap- 
pointed when the dog did not appear at the sound of his mas- 
ter's bugle. 

" Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam, 
The flower of all his race, 
So true, so brave ; a lamb at home, 
A lion in the chase? " 

Llewellyn had a baby-boy at home. On returning to his 
castle, the master saw the dog running to meet him. 

" The hound all o'er was smeared with gore, 
His lips, his fangs, ran blood." 

Llewellyn could not find his child, but he found blood every- 
where. He concluded that the hound had killed the infant ; and 
so the father plunged his sword into the dog. Ah, hasty act ! 
The dying yell of the faithful creature awoke the sleeping babe ; 
and then the father found the carcass of a wolf which had come 
to eat the child, but which Gelert had torn to death. 

Stories of the fidelity of dogs might be multiplied 
to fill up a whole day's telling. You ought to 
know one that was fixed in the most sure kind of 
history that is ever made. 

About eighteen hundred years ago some Italian towns were 
covered up with burning ashes and mud from the great volcano. 
Mount Vesuvius. In an instant, hke a great thunder-storm 
sometimes bursts upon us, the deluge of hot ashes and the 
flood of soft mud came, burying the houses and living creatures. 
In recent times we have been digging out the buried corpses 
and the curious old relics. There is the standing skeleton of a 
dog. We know his name, for it is on his collar, and it is Delta. 
Delta deserved his collar, for he was a dog of noble courage. 
The collar tells us that he saved his master s Hfe three times; 
once from the sea, once from robbers, and once from wolves. 
And in what position do you think the remains of the dog were 
found ? Why, standing over the skeleton of a child about twelve 
years old. We see that the dog was not running away, but try- 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 



245 



ing to save from the deadly stream of ashes and mud, this child 
whom he was covering. Bravo, Delta ! You deserve to be held 
in honorable memory. 

The gratitude of animals is shown in this story. 

In old Roman days, prisoners were made to fight with lions, 
who were kept caged, and released for this purpose at a great 
show. The Pagans, by such use of lions, killed many Chris- 
tians. Androcles, a slave, had been hiding from a severe master 
in a cave of the desert. A lion came near, but when Androcles 
thought he was to be devoured he noticed that the lion was 
limping and in great pain. The man then went up bravely, took 
hold of the lion's paw, and found a large splinter which had made 
a festering wound. When this was removed the lion fawned 
on the man. Afterwards Androcles was taken prisoner, and a 
lion that had been caught was let loose in the amphitheatre to 
destroy him. To the surprise of all, the lion went up and 
fawned on Androcles. It proved to be the same lion which the 
man had relieved in the desert. 

This is so amazing that we may be afraid it is only 
a beautiful story ; but an old historian gives it as 
coming from an eye-witness of the scene. Whether 
or not it be true, the remembrance by a brute, of a 
favor done, and of the friend who did it, has often 
been quite wonderful. 

V. There are many animals afraid of man. Let 
us ask why this is so. Look at the wild birds, how 
they fly from our approach ! It is not because men 
are larger than birds. The birds will hop all about a 
large cow or a horse in a field, and eat and play in 
confidence right near them. But let a dog or a man 
go into the field, and how soon they take alarm and 
fly off ! Why is this t 

Tliey think the dog or the man will catch them. 



246 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Animals that are afraid of man are those whom 
man has been hurting. Through hundreds of years 
man has been doing, harm to their parents, and their 
mothers have taught them to be afraid. 

If you should ever read of Thoreau, who went and 
lived among the birds and other small animals of the 
woods and fields, you may see how kindness may 
make the wild animals close companions of man. 

Look at the beautiful picture in Isa. 1 1 : 6-9. 

Joseph Kirkland, in St. Nicholas, a magazine, gave 
a story called : — 

A Good Shot : A Short Tale in Short Words for 
Boys both Tall and Short. 

Once there was a boy who was a good marksman with a 
stone or a sling-shot, or a bow-and-arrow, or a cross-bow, or an 
air-gun, or anything he took aim with. So he went about all 
day, aiming at everything he came near. Even at his meals he 
would think about good shots at the clock, or the cat, or the 
flies on the wall, or anything he chanced to see. 

Near where he lived there lived a little bird that had a nest 
and five young birds. So many large mouths in small heads, 
always open wide for food, kept her hard at work. From dawn 
to dark she flew here and there, over fields and woods and roads, 
getting worms, and flies, and bugs, and seeds, and such things 
as she knew were good for her young birds. It was a great 
wonder what lots of food those five small things could eat. 
What she brought each day would have filled that nest full up 
to the top, yet they ate it all and asked for more before daylight 
next morning. Though it was such hard work, she was glad to 
do it, and went on day after day, always flying off with a gay 
chirp, and back with a bit of some kind of food ; and though 
she did not eat much herself, except what stuck to her bill after 
she had fed them, yet she never let them want, not even the 
smallest and weakest of them. The httle fellow could not ask 
as loudly as the others, yet she always fed him first. 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 



247 



One day, when she had picked up a worm and perched a 
minute on the wall before flying to her nest, the good marksman 
saw her, and, of course, aimed at her and hit her in the side. 
She was much hurt and in great pain, yet she fluttered and 
limped, and dragged herself to the foot of the tree where her 
nest was, but she could not fly up to her nest, for her wing was 
broken. She chirped a little, and the young ones heard her, and 
as they were hungry they chirped back loudly, and she knew all 
their voices, even the weak note of the smallest of all ; but she 
could not come up to them, not even tell them why she did not 
come. And when she heard the call of the small one she tried 
again to rise, but only one of her wings would move, and that 
just turned her over on the side of the broken wing. 

All the rest of that day the httle mother lay there, and, when 
she chirped, her children answered, and when they chirped she 
answered ; only when the good marksman chanced to pass by, 
then she kept quite stilL But her voice grew fainter and weaker, 
and late in the day the young ones could not hear itany more, 
but she could still hear them. Some time in the night the 
mother-bird died, and in the morning she lay there quite cold 
and stiff, with her dim eyes still turned up to the nest where her 
young ones were dying of hunger. But they did not die so 
soon. All day long they slept, until their hunger waked them 
up, and then called until they were so tired they fell asleep 
again. And the next night was very cold, and they missed their 
mother's warm breast, and before day dawned they all died, one 
after the other, excepting the smallest, which was lowest down 
in the nest, and in the morning he pushed up his head and 
opened his yellow mouth to be fed, but there was no one to 
feed him, and so he died, too, at last, with his mouth wide open 
and empty. 

And so, the good marksman had killed six birds with one 
shot — the mother and her five young ones. Do you not think 
he must be a proud boy ? Should you not like to do the same ? 
If you know him, please read this little tale to him. He may 
like to hear it. 



PART IV. — DUTY TO GOD. 



I. — GENERAL. 

He hath showed thee, O man, what is good ; and what doth the Lord 
require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with 
thy God? — i/zV. 6: 8. 

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and 
glorify your Father which is in heaven. — St. Matt. 5 : 16. 

Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the 
glory of God, — i Cor. 10: 31. 

I count this to be grandly true, 

That a noble deed is a step towards God. 

— Dr. J. G. Holland. 

As soon as a little child begins to mind, and tries 
to please the family, and pets animals, and thus shows 
love and the idea of duty, the parents teach the 
child of One who is unseen. Most frequently it is 
the mother who first gives to the young mind the 
name of God, and teaches a prayer. We come now 
to study the last and highest duty that we learned of 
when we were little children, duty to God. 

I. We have been studying duty in two classes ; one 
class of it due to ourselves, and the other due to our 
fellows. 

But we have seen that some duties belong to both 
classes. We owe it to ourselves to take good care of 
our health, but we just as surely owe it to others who 
would have to tend us if we were sick. We studied 

248 



GENERAL 



249 



truthfulness under duty to self, but it is duty to others 
as well. We studied honesty under duty to others, 
and yet it is first a duty to self. Kindness to animals 
is due to ourselves as well as to brutes. We might go 
on to find that other duties we have been considering 
in one or the other class, belong to the two classes. 

Now, every one of them belongs to a third class. 
-All we owe to ourselves and to our fellows is also 
duty to God. 

Our highest and best thought of God is that He is 
our Heavenly Father. That being our highest and 
best thought of Him, it ought to be our first thought. 
Then we shall not be afraid of God. Would any 
child be afraid of a good father } 

Then, also, we must see that our Heavenly Father 
has pat us in the world to do the best we can for our- 
selves and others. 

n. Let us try to learn what is meant by glorify- 
ing "our Father which is in heaven." 

Some little girls were playing on a neighbor's front steps. 
They were children of poor parents who had to work very hard ; 
and not all of the children were clean. They had strayed from 
the entrance of a large tenement-house, where constant passers 
in and out disturbed their games, to the wider and unoccupied 
steps of this private house. The gentleman of the house ap- 
proached his home, and saw that the children were gathered at 
the entrance so that no one could pass in. They were interested 
in their play, and did not at once observe him. When they did 
recognize him, the shy ones were frightened and got ready to 
scamper. One of the little girls, however, made a pretty bow, 
and said very gracefully, " Excuse us, sir.'' Then the gentle- 
man noticed that she was neatly dressed and had clean hands. 
He said to himself, " Why, here is a jewel ; she must have a good 
mother, and perhaps she has a good father also." 



250 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



When children behave well, how do those who 
observe them speak of the parents ? 
In praise. 

Every child who is clean, obedient, and well-be- 
haved, reflects honor on his parents. The child not 
only does what makes the parents happy, but the 
good and obedient behavior both pleases the parents 
at home and does honor to the parents before others 
who notice it. That kind of honor we do our parents 
is glorifying them. That is precisely the way in which 
we may glorify our Heavenly Father. 

Let us see why this is so. 

The child who does well is doing the parents' will. 
The will of the father and the mother is seen to be 
good in the behavior of their child. Persons also 
think of what pains the parents have taken with their 
child. 

There was a wicked man who taught his little son to steal. 
When this boy was once picking a lady's pocket, he was caught 
in the very act. The poor, trembling Httle culprit was taken 
before a judge. This wise man, examining the case, discovered 
that the boy's father had taught him to be a thief. The judge 
blamed the father more than he did the boy, and took the son 
away from such a father. The father's will was seen, and it was 
a bad will. 

Now, perhaps, we have learned how it is possible 
for us to glorify God. It is by doing what is right 
and adding a simple reverence, which shows that we 
wish to please our Heavenly Father. 

"Must I go out and pretend that I'm a good fellow? — be- 
cause I am not." Thus spoke Harry Honest to his mother, 
after she had been giving him a serious lesson on his duty to 
stand up for the right. She answered, " No, my boy, never pre- 



GENERAL. 



251 



tend anything. But be brave enough to profess that you wish 
to be good. It is true humiHty to show that you wish God to be 
your teacher, and desire to do what you may learn from Him." 

We were talking of the good opinion of our fellow- 
men. If we get that for our parents, we glorify them ; 
if we get it for God, we glorify Him. 

Maybe we had better learn something more about 
the praise of men. It may help us to go a little 
further into our lesson about duty to God. 

People not only praise the parents of a well-behaved 
child. Whom else do they praise } 

The child. 

Let us know then that the praise of our fellow- 
men is a good thing to have if we deserve it, and do 
not think too much of it. 

It is a sure sign that we do think too much of 
praise if we find ourselves doing anything for praise. 
Then we are in danger of going into mean slavery to 
our fellows, leading us to live in fear of their blame. 

And if one has self-respect, it makes him very 
much ashamed to be praised when he does not de- 
serve it. It hurts us to be blamed when we do not 
deserve it ; but one of true self-respect and courage 
can bear the hurt of undeserved blame better than he 
can the shame of undeserved praise. 

Socrates was blamed, though he did right and 
deserved the praise of his fellow-men. Nevertheless, 
he drank the poison they made him take, with a good 
courage. All the good men and women whom the 
world has killed because they were good, could stand 
undeserved blame. And every one of them would 
have turned away from a throne, if it had been offered 



252 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



as a reward for some good he or she had not done. 
These characters would have been found too great to 
take undeserved reward. 

It is better to know that we deserve praise than to 
get it. 

But we wish for approval ; our human heart hun- 
gers after pleasing some one by our conduct. And 
yet, men may not understand our good reasons for 
much that we do. They may think our good to be 
evil, and we may not be able to show them otherwise. 

We may in all things try to please our Heavenly 
Father. There is a little story of a humble woman, 
called : — 

The Rightful Builder. 

A certain king would build a cathedral ; and, that the credit of 
it might be all his own, he forbade any from contributing to its 
erection in the least degree. A tablet was placed in the side of 
the building, and on it his name was carved, as the builder. But 
that night, he, in a dream, saw an angel who came down and 
erased his name, and the name of a poor widow appeared in 
its stead. This was three times repeated ; when the enraged 
king summoned the woman before him, and demanded, — 

" What have you been doing, and why have you broken my 
commandment ? " 

The trembling woman replied, — 

" I loved the Lord, and longed to do something for His Name, 
and for the building up of His Church. I was forbidden to 
touch it in any way ; so, in my poverty, I brought a wisp of hay 
for the horses that drew the stones." 

And the king saw that he had labored for his own glory, but 
the widow for the glory of God ; and he commanded that her 
name should be inscribed upon the tablet. 

That woman, first of all things, wished to please 
God. That is the highest motive we can have. If 



GENERAL. 



that be ours, the glorifying of God will take care of 
itself. 

IV. We have talked of the will of parents and of 
the will of God. What is the will of a good parent t 
That we do what is good. 

Let us have it exactly. It is that we become good, 
in order that we may love the right, and, therefore, 
do the right. 

That is precisely what our Heavenly Father's will 

is. 

A story has been told, called : — 

Sue's New Motive. 

Sue Graham stood in the south kitchen door, pinning on 
her great calico apron, with a very disconsolate look on her 
usually sunny face. Grace Dennis, so pretty and dainty in her 
fresh cambric, drove by in her basket phaeton, with little crippled 
Bessie McAllister, The frown deepened on Sue's face, and she 
gave her apron-strings an impatient twitch. Then she turned 
hastily from the doorway to the hot kitchen. It seemed hotter 
than ever, as she remembered how cool and fresh it looked out- 
doors. And there were the breakfast dishes to be washed, rooms 
to be swept and put to rights, cake and pudding to be made, and 
dinner to be prepared. She turned back to the door again, her 
brown eyes overflowing. 

" What is it, Susie dear? " asked her mother, stopping on her 
way to the pantry at the sight of Sue's woe-begone face ; "what 
is it, dear ? " 

*' Nothing much," responded Sue, trying to smile back, but 
succeeding in calling up only a very tearful one ; "I'm so tired 
of all this, and discouraged," she said. 

" Do you ever think of it as something your Heavenly Father 
has given you to do for Hi7n, Sue 1 " 

"Why, mother!" and Sufe turned abruptly round. "You 
don't mean He cares or knows anything about all this work, do 
you } " 



254 



THE RIGHT ROAD., 



" Why not, dear ? Doesn't He know when even a sparrow 
falls to the ground? 'Are ye not much better than they?' 
You are just where He put you, and if you do the duties He has 
given you to do cheerfully and faithfully, even though they are 
small, I believe He sees and knows, and cares too, for the faith- 
fulness of the service." 

A minute after, Sue heard her mother in the pantry, pre- 
paring for baking. There was a grave, thoughtful look on Sue's 
face now, in place of the frown. 

"Perhaps," she thought to herself, "perhaps I can serve God 
here, and at this work. It isn't as pretty work, though, as Grace 
Dennis's," she thought, with a sigh. " It would be so nice to 
dress daintily and prettily as Grace always does, and have 
leisure to do graceful deeds of kindness as she does ; but if this 
is what God gives me, I'll try and do it the best I know how, 
and cheerfully too," she added bravely. And then, without 
further delay, she went about the homely duties of the day. 
But how different they seemed to her, viewed in the new light ! 
If she were doing them for Him, they must be done with extra 
care. Every little nook and corner was thoroughly swept and 
dusted ; there was a strong temptation to slight the out-of-the- 
way places sometimes. Every dish was washed and wiped with 
utmost care, and never was cake lighter or nicer than Sue's that 
day. 

"• Oh, mother, you don't know how much you helped me this 
morning! " said Sue that night. 

" I think I do," answered her mother, " for I know what a 
difference it made in my life when I first believed that God knew 
and cared, not only about the great things of life, but about the 
little, homely, every-day duties too. It is hard sometimes to 
accept His choice of work for us ; but He knows best. If He 
wishes us to glorify Him in home-life and every-day service, let 
us do it as taithfully and as cheerfully as though He asked some 
greater thing of us. ' Content to fill a little space, if Thou be 
glorified.' Can you say that, Sue ? " 

" I'll try to," she said softly, aS'She stopped for a good-night 
kiss. 



GENERAL. 



There is a little piece of history in the life of a 
great sailor, belonging to his boyhood, which is quite 
interesting. 

You know the largest steamship ever built was the 
Great Eastern. She was an immense floating iron 
castle. When the telegraph cable was to be laid 
under the ocean, this vessel was chosen to carry it. 
Of course a brave and skilful captain is always needed 
to command such a ship, but on this cable-voyage it 
was especially important to have " the right man in 
the right place." Captain James Anderson was 
engaged. He did his sailor duty so well, that, when 
the Great Eastern returned from her voyage. Queen 
Victoria knighted him and made him Sir James 
Anderson. 

Let us discover the boyhood of this noble sailor, 
that we may know what was worked into his early 
life to make him such a man : — 

There lived in a Scotch village a very little boy called Jamie 
Anderson, who had set his heart on being a sailor. His mother 
consented. As he left home his mother said, Wherever you 
are, Jamie, whether on sea or land, never forget to acknowledge 
your God. Promise me that you will kneel down every night 
and morning, and say your prayers, no matter whether the 
sailors laugh or not." 

" Mother, I promise you that I will," said Jamie ; and soon 
he was on shipboard bound for India. 

On the voyage out Jamie had an easy time of it. No one 
laughed aloud at him. But on the return things were not quite 
so pleasant. Some new sailors had been taken into the crew to 
supply the places of those who deserted the ship in India. One 
of these was a very bad fello vv. 

The first time this wicked sailor saw Jamie on his knees to 



256 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



say his prayers, he went up to him, gave him a sound box on 
the ear, and said, " None of that here, sir." 

Another sailor, seeing this cowardly and cruel blow, bade the 
bully to come upon deck and take a thrashing. The challenge 
was accepted, and the well-deserved beating was given. When 
they went back to the forecastle, the champion, who was himself 
a rough and profane man, though of a kind disposition, said to 
the boy, " Now, Jamie, say your prayers, and if he dares to 
touch you I will give him another dressing." 

The next night Jamie thought it was not necessary for him to 
be making trouble aboard the ship, and that he would say his 
prayers quietly in his hammock so as not to be observed. But 
his friend was watching him. When this good-natured rough 
fellow saw Jamie crawl into his hammock without kneeling down, 
he went up and dragged the boy out by his neck, saying, " Kneel 
down at once, sir ! do you think I am going to fight for you, and 
you not say your prayers, you young rascal ? " 

Jamie did not fail to keep the promise to his mother after 
this. The strong man who had done battle for him watched over 
him kindly, as much so as if he had been the boy's father. He 
little dreamed of the fine stuflf that was being wrought into the 
boy's character through doing duty to God. Jamie Anderson 
had not been afraid nor ashamed of confessing God before men ; 
he had only shrunk from it to save trouble among others. 



REVERENCE. 



257 



IL — REVERENCE. 

For who in the heaven can be compared unto the Lord ? 

Who among the sons of the mighty can be likened unto the Lord ? 

God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints, 

And to be had in reverence of all them that are about him. — Ps. 89 : 6, 7. 

Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name. — St. Matt. 6 : 9. 

The life of man 
Is summed in birthdays and in sepulchres ; 
But the Eternal God had no beginning ; 
He hath no end. 

— Henry Kirke White. 

We owe God reverence. Because of what He is, 
and because of what we are. 

I. Reverence is feeling the very highest respect 
and paying the very highest honor. It is not easy to 
find words which tell what it means in its highest 
sense. We say reverence for God, and can hardly 
make it any plainer. 

To be sure, we learned something about it when 
we studied the honor of parents. And reverence for 
God is akin to reverence for parents. But for God 
our reverence is so much higher than for any earthly 
parent that it reaches awe and adoration. 

If we know how to study faces, we may see 
reverence in pictures which great artists have made 
of holy persons. Look at the picture of such a one 
praying, and the face shows the devout one to be 
feeling this thought : " Thou, O God, art so great 
and so good ! " 



2S8 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



In having awe of the Good Father, we must avoid 
being afraid of Him. To be frightened of Him is 
to dishonor Him. The thought behind such fear 
would be that perhaps He means to hurt us. 

The opposite of reverential awe is superstition. 
That is a poison which puts into our awe a hint that 
God may not be good, and that we are to be afraid of 
Him. It leads us to think that we must buy Him 
off from harming us, or that we must buy His 
protection. 

But the Bible speaks very highly of " the fear of 
the Lord'' How are we to understand that t The 
word " fear " here has almost the same meaning as our 
word " reverence." Words may have meanings that 
seem to be contradictory. One of the most simple 
words to show this, though it is not exactly like our 
v/ord "fear," is ''cry." If you say "a boy cried," 
you may mean that he was hurt and in misery wept 
aloud, or you may mean that in gladness he cried 
" Hurrah ! " Now the first meaning of fearis fright, 
yet it has this second meaning of a loving care to be 
respectful and obedient. This is about the same as 
the meaning of reverence. 

A story may help us to understand this second 
meaning : — 

Two boys had been taught the text, " Thou God seest me." 
It had a different effect upon their minds. One of them was a 
truant when he should have been at school, and he went with 
other boys who made an excursion on a heated day to the water- 
side. The boys prepared for swimming, when a terrible fright 
came to the mind of the truant. He recalled the text, and 
became afraid to go out wliere the deep water was, lest God 
should drown him for his sin. So he played in the shallow 



REVEREIVCE. 



259 



water near the shore. He had a very miserable time. He was 
not sorry for doing wrong ; he only wished that God could not 
see him. He shook off the feeling when his companions came 
out of the water, and he took his place at the game of ball 
which followed, as full of glee as any one of them. He seemed 
to think that the great God could not harm him on the land, but 
might do so in the water. Later in the day, however, there came 
up a storm with vivid lightning and fierce thunder, and again 
this lad's fears came with tormenting force. He was afraid that 
the building, in which they had all taken refuge, might be struck 
by a hghtning-bolt, and that he should be killed. Now, mark 
you, he was only frightened in apprehending danger ; he had no 
fear beyond that. He was willing to do wrong and to get pleas- 
ure out of wrong, if only he might escape punishment. 

The other boy was one of the company on this excursion. 
He had been having a good time all day, and hardly thought of 
any danger from the lightning. When the severe but short 
storm was over, the cowardly boy, who had recovered his 
bravery, proposed that the company should go into an adjoining 
orchard, to gather fruit which the heavy wind and rain had beaten 
down. " Would not that be stealing ? " asked this second boy. 
" No," answered another ; " the owner does not care for apples 
on the ground." For a moment this seemed to quiet the con- 
science of the manly fellow. Another boy to clinch the argu- 
ment remarked, " Why, if the owner was here he would say, 
' Boys, go in and help yourselves.' He isn't here to see us 
anyhow." 

The latter part of that speech brought to the true boy's mind 
the text, "Thou God seest me." Then like a brave fellow he 
said, " I do not know whether or not it would be wrong ; but I 
am afraid that it would be''' 

This boy's fear was that it might be wrong and 
would displease God. This is the fear that we are 
to cultivate, the fear that we may do what will dis- 
please any one whom we respect and love and whom 
we wish to please. 



26o 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



But here comes an important question — Is there 
no true dread or fright of the Good Father? We 
must answer that. Our answer is, Yes. 

There is no good parent, there is no loving friend, 
the best and kindest and most patient we know, 
whom we should not dread to meet if we had wilfully 
sinned against him. We should dread to see the pain 
on such a loving and patient face. We should be 
ashamed to look into that face. We should be wish- 
ing that such a parent or friend might not come into 
our presence. 

Now, then, we may understand what "the fear of 
the Lord" is, and that it "is the beginning of wis- 
dom." For wisdom is to know and do the highest 
and the best we can. God's will is the highest and 
the best we can know and do. If we have the fear 
that we may not always do right, that fear will move 
us to learn all of the right we can. 

11. Reverence for God will keep us from such 
words and acts as cannot be consistent with it. It 
will keep us from — 

1. Taking the name of the Lord in vain. 

2. Profane swearing. 

3. Making any jest about holy things. 

4. Having contempt for any one, because we are 
all children of the same Heavenly Father. 

If reverence rises to any high life within us, we 
cannot be guilty of blasphemy. 

A lad in Boston, rather small for his age, works in an office 
as errand-boy for four gentlemen who do business there. One 
day the gentlemen were chaffing him about being so small, and 
said to him, — 



REVERENCE. 



261 



"You will never amount to much, you can never do much 
business, you are too small." 

The little fellow looked at them. 

" Well," said he, " as small as I am, I can do something 
which none of you four gentlemen can do." 

"And what is that 1 " said they. 

" I don't know as I ought to tell you," he replied. 

But they were anxious to know, and urged him to tell what 
he could do that none of them were able to do. 

" I can keep from swearing," said the little fellow. 

There were some blushes on four manly faces, and there 
seemed to be very little anxiety for further information on that 
point. 

To hear blasphemy is painful to a reverent person. 
Suppose any one should sneer at your parents, or 
laugh at your home, how would you feel ? 

Very much fmrt. 

Any disrespectful allusion to our parents — even the 
lightest contempt in the use of a parent's name — 
would wound our feelings. We would much rather 
have our own name spoken rudely than have our 
father's or mother's name thus treated. Surely, 
such treatment of God and His Holy Name, or any 
disrespectful reference to sacred things, should hurt 
our feelings. 

An eccentric but kind and good old lady was walking along 
the street of a great city, and was shocked to hear two boys 
taking the Divine Name in vain. She said kindly, "Boys, my 
eyesight is poor. Lead me across the street, and here is a little 
money for you." 

They led her carefully across the crowded thoroughfare, and 
received the pay with a " Thank you, ma'am." Then she said, 
as gently as she could, " Boys, my name is Cooke. Whenever 
you feel like being profane, say Cooke. That won't hurt you or 



262 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



me. Say Cooke just as often as you please. Boys, whatever 
you say, never take the Holy Name of God in vain." 

An old man and a young man were riding in a stage-coach. 
The old man was grave, but sprightly, short of stature, spare, with 
a smooth forehead, a fresh complexion, and a bright, piercing eye. 
The young man swore a great deal, until once, when they stopped 
to change horses, the old man said to him, — 

" I perceive by the registry books that you and I are going 
to travel together a long distance in this coach. I have a favor to 
ask of you. I am getting to be an old man, and if I should so 
far forget myself as to swear., you will oblige me if you will 
caution me about it.'''' 

The young man instantly apologized, and there was no more 
swearing heard from him during that journey. The old man was 
John Wesley. 

A good and bright but plain-looking lady was travelling on 
the cars. At a station which was the seat of a college, a num- 
ber of young fellows took the train, and some of them occupied 
seats near her. Their conversation was quite rude and profane. 
A mention of the college indicated that they were students. 
They were not gentlemen, because their language was not de- 
cent. The lady might have complained to the conductor of the 
train, but that was not her way. She endured it as long as she 
could. Then she said, " You young men are from college, are 
you not ? " 

" Yes, madam." 

" Have you studied Greek there ? " asked she. 
" Oh, yes, madam." 

" Will you please do me the favor to swear in Greek ? I do 
not understand Greek, and swearing in that tongue will not hurt 
my feelings." 

They moved to another car. 

All irreverence must be painful to devout persons 
who may hear or see it. 

III. Irreverence cannot do God any harm. We 
may think that it moves His pity for those who have 



RE VERENCE. 



263 



lost reverence. He does not strike them to the 
earth ; He is patient and pitiful. 

Now, when any one is to be pitied for his own con- 
duct, for any state into which his conduct brings him, 
his case is a very sad one. The state of an irrever- 
ent person is indeed one most sad. He has lost out 
of his best i-^^the highest and holiest gift he had. 

When a person loses his mind and can no longer 
think aright, we consider him as having lost the best 
gift that belongs to the earthly life. How we pity 
one living like a little baby, an adult who knows little 
more than an infant ! How we pity one who must 
be put in a madhouse ! We cannot see so clearly the 
loss that has come to the soul when reverence has 
departed ; we have to think about it to know what a 
sorrowful state it is. When we do begin to know 
what it is, we are convinced that God sees it to be a 
more awful loss than that of mind. He alone can 
pity such a person as much as that one needs to be 
pitied. He alone can see the awful state of one who 
has lost the holiest gift he had. 

Unless such a person gets back reverence, he must 
surely go on to the loss of himself . The words sound 
as solemn as words can. But we have no words 
which fully express our ideas of the highest and 
greatest things. These words, which express the 
dark thought of one losing himself, are often used in 
a lower sense. We say that one has lost himself 
when he has lost his way, when in a wilderness he is 
all alone and wretched, not knowing which way to go. 
We say that one has lost himself when his mind is 
gone, when he sits among men, unable to talk with 



264 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



them, and cannot enjoy any kind of life but that 
which is animal. If one so loses himself as to be 
incapable of enjoying any goodness, it is so awful a 
calamity that we cannot put our full thought of it 
into words ; we can only use in strongest sense words 
that point to our meaning. 

IV. Reverence is founded on what God is, and 
what we are. 

God's greatness and goodness are beyond our 
thought. But thought goes as high as it can. And 
under the influence of man's highest thought of 
The Great and Good God, man is reverent. 

A great and very wise man was asked in the olden time by 
a king to tell him who and what God is. The sage requested a 
whole day to think over the question. At the end of the time 
he could not answer, and requested two days. Then he was 
not ready with an answer,- and begged for three more days. 
When these had passed he said, " The more I think of it, the 
more I may think. The highest thought does not reach the full 
nature of God." 

We know what we are : that we are all children 
before God. We know that we are weak in goodness 
when we wish that we could be strong ; we know 
ourselves to be ignorant of so much that man can 
never learn in this world. 

Such creatures as we are, learning anything of 
Almighty God the Creator of the universe, find it 
reasonable and right to be reverent before Him. As 
He is everywhere we should in no place be irreverent, 
not on the street any more than in a church. 

V. To avoid the danger of losing reverence we 
ought to practise two habits : — 



REVERENCE. 



265 



1. Cultivate our reverence by worshipping God. 

2. Shun the company of irreverent persons. 

We should never use a divine name without solemn 
thought of what we are saying. Let us think of 
Him whom we mention in our speech. 

Nearly all the great men of the world have been 
reverent. The best poets are reverent. When we 
read our great philosophers and statesmen, we observe 
how reverently they speak of the great God. 



266 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



HI. —WORSHIP. 

O come, let us worship and bow down ; 
Let us kneel before the Lord our Maker : 

For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of 
his hand. — Ps. 95 : 6, 7. 

God is a Spirit : and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and 
in truth. — St. John 4 : 24. 

Teach me, my God and King, 

In all things Thee to see, 
And what I do in anything. 

To do it as for Thee. 

— George Herbert. 

The expression of the most solemn reverence is 
worship. 

The reverence we entertain for Almighty God, our 
Heavenly Father, we found to be such as reaches 
awe and adoration. Awe alone might lead us to 
worship, but to a false manner of worship. But we 
have so learned of God as to think of wonderful 
beauty and boundless goodness in the Being of God. 
Therefore with awe we have adoration ; that is, we 
admire and love Him. Thus are we led to true 
worship. 

I. We get the meaning of worship when we learn 
how the word is made. The two words wortJi and 
ship are made to form one word, worsJdp. " Ship " 
at the end of a word has a peculiar meaning. It 
means the state or condition of the first part of the 
word. To make the meaning plainer, let us think of 
what is meant by the words it is. That is near 



WORSHIP. 



267 



enough to the meaning of " ship " when it is added 
to another word. Thus we have friendship and fellow- 
ship. Take " friendship," for instance. When we 
say that we give our friejtdsJiip to another, we mean 
that our friendly feeling is true and active : that it is. 
It is not merely something that may come to us, but it 
is in us now. Then, by worship we mean that all the 
worth in us is now true and active ; that our worth 
is awake and not asleep ; that we offer all that is 
worthy in us. 

Praying and the singing of hymns should be the 
highest worth in us, offering itself to God. 

A little girl overhearing her little brother saying his evening 
prayer in a careless manner, said to him, — 

" Willie, if you do not mind how you pray, God will not hear 
you. You wouldn't ask mamma for anything you really wanted 
in such a careless way." 

II. We shall begin to find what is the worth in 
us if we ask what is worthless. What is thoughtless- 
ness worth ? 

Nothing. 

If thoughtlessly we have helped any one, if it 
was a mere accident, if we did not mean it, there 
was nothing of highest worth in us which served the 
other. We hardly deserve any thanks. Indolence 
in us is unworthy ; so is fright ; and so is unwilling- 
ness. But thought, industry, courage, and willing- 
ness are parts of the worth in us. 

Thomas Saunter cared only for a few of his acquaintances. 
One day his aunt visited the house when his mother was not at 
home, and she undertook to hold conversation with her nephew. 
The boy had not much fondness for her, and he sat and listened 
to her without thought. He did not give his mind and attention 



268 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



to her. To be sure, he answered her questions, but he allowed 
his thoughts to go out to everything except his aunt's pleasure. 
He did not try to please and entertain her. He was all the time 
wishing she would soon go. She could not but perceive this, 
and she did leave. He gave his good aunt nothing in him that 
was worth anything ; he gave only a thoughtless attendance on 
her. He was not interested, and she was not interested. 

Thomas was a lazy boy. He sauntered on an errand. When 
he had to do anything he gave an indolent service. But he was 
a great coward ; and he went on an errand very quickly, run- 
ning home with his purchase for his mother, one day when it 
was rumored in the street that a mad dog was around. Then 
he was active ; but that activity on his errand was not given to 
his duty, but only to his fright. Thomas Saunter was quite 
unwilling to go to church on Sunday, but his mother made him 
go. There was nothing in such going to church that was worth 
offering to God. 

We should wish to offer the greatest worth in us 
when we bow with reverence before our Father who 
is in heaven. 

There were heathen men who lived in a hot clime where the 
sun was so bright and powerful that they took it for their God. 
They wished to offer the best they had to the Sun-God. Noth- 
ing on earth was more prized by them than a horse. He was 
among the strongest and swiftest creatures they knew, — and 
he was beautiful, and their horses were very much loved by 
them. Then they began to think that even a horse would be a 
superior animal, if he could have wings and fly as well as run. 
So they made an image of a flying horse, and offered that to the 
sun. They meant to do the best they knew how and to give the 
best they had. 

We have found that the best in us, the highest part 
of self in each one, is our spirit. In true worship 
that is what we offer to God. Our spirit offers its 
very self ; and when it can give itself it can give all 
things else. Then we can find it very easy to give 
mind and body and wealth. 



WORSHIP. 



269 



When we speak of our spirit offering its very self, 
we mean that our wish in worship is that the good 
Father may make our spirit like unto his own Spirit. 
In other words, that we may get in sympathy with 
God, rejoicing with Him over all good — over good 
that has been, that is, and that we hope shall be. 

III. We may now see how wrong it would be for 
us to worship any other than the one God. No one 
else can make our spirit like unto God's in goodness. 
Alas ! an evil spirit may make us like unto himself 
in wickedness. But we are speaking of goodness 
and of a human soul that wishes goodness. God is 
"the Father of spirits." He is the only perfectly 
pure Spirit. Our parents would not have our spirit 
like unto theirs, except as their spirit is like unto 
God's. Parents wish our love and honor, but when 
we are old enough to learn what it means they ask 
us to give our self to God. They do not wish that 
self ; they know that they ought not to have it ; and 
they give their very self to God. It is God who is 
worshipped in Jesus Christ when we adore our 
Saviour. 

IV. There are forms and ceremonies in nearly all 
public or common worship. 

Their use is to awaken our spirit to mean what we 
say and do in them. Unless our mind is given to 
them and our spirit goes with them, they are useless. 

What does kneeling mean 1 

That we hu^nble ourselves. 

The only worth there is in kneeling down to pray, 
is that we mean it to be an act of humility to our 
Heavenly Father. The only worth there can be in 



2/0 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



a word of prayer or a note of praise is that we 
mean it. 

Henry Jackson went to a Sunday school where he was taught 
to say " Amen " at the close of short prayers called collects. 
He did not try to give his mind to what the reader of the 
prayers was saying, but he always responded the " Amen." 
That response was worthless from Henry. No praying or 
singing can be worship unless we mean the words of the prayer 
or the hymn. Henry's teacher had tried to impress this on the 
scholar's mind ; but the boy dismissed the thought, and only 
said " Amen " to make beUeve that he was following the prayers. 
To say " Amen " to a prayer offered by another, is to say to 
God that we mean that prayer to be our own. 

A little story will show us how Henry Jackson 
should have said his "Amen." 

A gray-haired, ignorant, but loving mother had the misfor- 
tune to have a son sent to prison. He was her mainstay, and 
was not so very bad when he kept out of wicked company. 
" What shall I do ? " moaned the sorrowing woman. " I don't 
know," answered her lawyer, " unless you will go to the gov- 
ernor with me." 

Not many weeks after, she had her son home again. 

" How ever did you do it " asked a neighbor, 

"Well," explained the mother, "we went to the governor, and 
the lawyer made a pretty speech, such as I could never make. 
He told the governor all about me and the boy ; how the boy 
would work for me, and how I would persuade him from his 
evil ways ; and he ended up with saying that I prayed the 
governor to pardon him. 

" Then, as the lawyer stopped there, I looked the governor 
right in the face and said, ' Yes, sir, if you please, do the mercy 
for a poor lone widow ! ' And the governor saw I meant it." 

" The governor said he would think about it, and would 
see what he could do. Then I said, ' Thank you, sir ; ' and he 
saw that I meant that too." 



WORSHIP. 



2J1 



V. We have seen how wrong it would be for us to 
offer our very spirit to any one less than God. What 
are those called who worship any other than the true 
God ? 

Idolaters and heathens. 

It is worth while to notice that idolatry shocks us 
for two reasons. 

1. God is dishonored. Men offer to a representa- 
tion of their low idea of deity that which should be 
given only to God. 

2. Man is degraded. The manhood which these 
poor people have in common with us is debased by 
their worship. 

The excuse for the idolaters is that they are 
heathens, that is, ignorant ones. 

Think of the hideous things men have worshipped 
in ignorance ! — beasts of many kinds, and great 
ugly objects of wood, stone, and brass. 

Then, there have been horrible ways in which men 
have worshipped. Because of the thought that they 
should give their best in worship, ignorant and scared 
men got the idea that they could please God and buy 
of Him the pardon of their sins by killing their chil- 
dren as a sacrifice to God. 

Let us be thankful that we know of the one only 
true God. Then our thankfulness should lead us to 
worship ; and this worship should always be the 
simple offering of our best and highest self. 

An Indian chief, hearing a missionary preach, said to him, 
"Will the Lord accept the poor Indian's hunting-dog? it is the 
best in our tribe." — " No," said the missionary, " He does not 
want that." The Indian then took up his rifle, and holding it in 



2/2 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



his hand gave it a last fond look, and said, " Will the Lord accept 
the poor Indian's rifle ? " but again the missionary rejected the 
offering. The Indian looked sad and disappointed, and taking 
off his richly-ornamented blanket — the insignia of his high 
rank — tendered it to the missionary, saying, " Will the Lord be 
pleased to accept the poor Indian's blanket?" But still the 
missionary said No. The Indian was grieved ; he had offered all 
that he held most dear, as a token of his love and gratitude to 
" Him who loved us and gave Himself for us," but all had been 
rejected : what could he do more ? He stood pensive and mel- 
ancholy, and ready to give up in despair, when the missionary 
said, " My son, give me thine heart," showing the gift that would 
be acceptable. Immediately the countenance of the Indian 
brightened up, and stretching forth his empty hands he exclaimed 
in joy, "Will the Lord really accept the poor Indian himself.'*" 
And gladly did the missionary assure him that He would indeed 
accept him, if he would yield himself His wiUing and obedient 
servant. 

Such worship as we have found is to be given to 
our Heavenly Father must have a holy influence upon 
our whole life. It shall be in our life when we may 
not be thinking of it. It will direct our life towards 
all that is good. 

Bishop Whipple brought from Egypt a story which 
gives us a lesson : — 

A pasha had for his treasurer a devoiit Jew whom the nobles 
hated, and they accused him to their master to be one who 
denied the Koran (the book these nobles and the pasha took as 
their Bible), and they said that the Jew deserved to be cast out. 
The pasha summoned the treasurer, and said, " Tell me which 
is the best religion." 

The Jew said, " O highness ! I will tell thee an Eastern 
story, and from that thou mayest judge which is the best 
religion." 

The pasha bowed assent, and the treasurer went on : — 

" There was at Cairo a jeweller who had three sons. On one 



WORSHIP. 



of his visits to Damascus to buy goods, an old merchant said 
to him, 'Abou Hassan, I have a talismanic ring which I will 
give thee. It will make its owner wise, truthful, generous, and 
pure. Take it and wear it for my sake, and bequeath it to thy 
children.' 

" Abou Hassan accepted the ring and wore it ; and as he 
walked the streets some would say, ' There goes Abou Hassan 
the wise ; ' and others, ' That is Abou Hassan the truthful,' or 
' the pure,' or ' the good.' 

"When the old man drew near his end he said to himself, ' If 
I give this ring to any one of my sons, it will fill the others with 
envy. I will, therefore, make two other rings exactly hke this 
tahsmanic one, so that no one can tell the difference.' This was 
done, and not long before his death Abou Hassan called his 
eldest son, and, having assigned him his portion of land and 
goods, handed him a ring, saying, ' Keep this ring for thy 
father's sake, and mayest thou be wise and just, truthful and 
kind.' In Hke manner he gave to his other sons their portions, 
and to each a ring, charging all of them not to wear the rings 
ostentatiously, but to carry them concealed in their girdles. 

" When the days of mourning were ended, the younger 
brothers dined with the eldest brother, and after the feast was 
over, the host said to his brothers, ' Our father was a good man. 
See, he gave me this talismanic ring ! ' 

*' ' No ! ' cried each of the others in one breath, 'he gave me 
the ring.' 

" The three rings were examined carefully, and no difference 
could be discovered in them. Sorely puzzled, they agreed to 
leave the question to a wise rabbi, who gravely said, ' It will not 
be known until you die, which has had the true ring. The man 
who has hved a pure, honest, truthful, and generous life will be 
the one who has had the true ring." 

" So," said the Jew, " O highness ! men in their blindness 
have many religions, and God in His pity overlooks their folly. 
When these men stand before Him in judgment, that religion 
only will be true which has helped them to live a holy life." 



274 ™^ RIGHT ROAD. 



IV. — SERVICE. 

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an 
hungred, and fed thee ? or thirsty, and gave thee drink ? When saw thee a 
stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we 
thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the king shall answer and 
say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one 
of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. — St. Matt. 25 : 
37-40. 

" You are old. Father William," the young man cried, 

" And life must be hastening away ; 
You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death I 

Now tell me the reason, I pray." 

" I am cheerful, young man," Father William replied ; 

" Let the cause thy attention engage : 
In the days of my youth I remembered my God, 

And He hath not forgotten my age." 

— Southey. 

We learned that worship has influence on our entire 
life. In doing this, it leads us to serve our heavenly 
Father. 

I. We mean by the service of God, simply this : 
Doing what we can for Him and for His. 

It is what we have learned before, — that all duty 
is due to God, and that in serving ourselves and 
others we may be serving Him. 

A great marshal of an army, who had won many victories, was 
dying, and friends about his couch reminded him of the great 
number of colors he had taken from the enemy of his land. The 
old warrior replied, " Ah ! how little avail all the actions you 
call glorious. All these are not worth one single cup of cold 
water given for the love of God." 



SERVICE. 



II. We may make all the good we do to be the 
service of God, simply by doing it — as the old, dying 
marshal said — "for the love of God." 

We have only to think of our Heavenly Father 
in doing our work. If we cannot always know the 
thought, our reverence for God should be so true a 
part of our mind, that we shall be held to that which 
will please Him. If the old marshal had looked into 
the causes of the wars he fought — and the cause 
had in every case seemed righteous — he might have 
made his military life the service of God. 

Handel, the great musical genius, teaches us a les- 
son here. 

After he had composed his wonderful oratorio, the " Mes- 
siah," a nobleman who heard it comphmented him on the rare 
entertainment he had afforded. " My lord," repHed Handel, " I 
should be sorry if I only entertained the people. / wish to 
make them better^ 

Perhaps Handel brings out here for us how all our 
work may be the service of God. Let us attend to 
this. A moment ago we allowed that to think of 
God in doing our work may be more than we can 
always do. Certainly our mind cannot be on Him all 
the time. He knows that it cannot ; and He does 
not ask what we cannot give. Only let us remember 
this : we can hold our mind in readiness to turn to 
God at any time. Now, Handel must have had so 
much reverence, that He could not compose a work 
about the Saviour merely to ejitertain people. The 
possibility of doing so did not exist in his mind. No 
more than we could find it in our mind to tell of our 
mother's sorrow merely to please people. While 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



Handel was writing his pleasing and touching music, 
he was thinking how it would make hearts tender, and 
lead listeners to become devout and good. This was 
making his work the service of God. 

Here is another illustration to help us : — 

A father goes away from his family early in the morning, and 
works hard all day. He loves his wife and children, and that 
love for them leads him to work cheerfully. He cannot have his 
mind on his home and those who are there, all the time. But 
what he does is for them ; love for them sent him away to hard 
work with a cheerful spirit. That is the way in which worship 
may make all our duty the service of God. We go from a true 
worship out to life's work, and we go to be just, true, and merci- 
ful in what we do, because our worship has been the giving of 
self io God. It is when worship consecrates our life., that we live 
in the service of God. 

HI. We learned in a former lesson, that our duties - 
belong to more than any one class in which we have 
been studying them. Now, service to God is a duty 
to ourselves. 

Our souls can never be what they may and should 
be, if we are not servants of God. No child is a true 
child, if he is without the honor of parents. He is 
not true to himself as a child. He has done himself 
a great wrong in not cultivating the honor of parents 
in his soul. Just so, we shall miss the true and high 
life, if what we do does not rise into the service of 
God. 

Serving our Heavenly Father will make all that is 
true and beautiful and good in us grow stronger. 
We never serve Him in any way without at the same 
time serving ourselves. 



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277 



A traveller was crossing a mountain height alone, over almost 
untrodden snow. Warning had been given him, that if slumber 
pressed down his weary eyelids, they would inevitably be sealed 
in death. For a time he went bravely along his dreary path. 
But with the deepening shade, and freezing blast at night, there 
fell a weight upon his brain and eyes which seemed to be irre- 
sistible. In vain he tried to reason with himself, in vain he 
strained his utmost energies to shake off that fatal heaviness. 
At this crisis of his fate, his foot struck against a heap that lay 
across his path. No stone was that, although no stone could be 
colder or more Hfeless. He stooped to touch it, and found a 
human body, half-buried beneath a fresh drift of snow. The 
next moment the traveller had taken a brother in his arms, and 
was chafing his hands and chest and brow, breathing upon the 
stiff, cold lips the warm breath of a living soul ; pressing the 
silent heart to the beating pulse of his own generous bosom. 

The effort to save another had brought back to himself life 
and warmth and energy. He was a man again, instead of a 
weak creature, succumbing to despairing helplessness, dropping 
down in dreamless sleep to die. " He saved a brother, and was 
saved himself." 

In serving God, we shall always serve ourselves. 
It will make life sweeter and happier. The happi- 
ness — the real reward for the life that follows the 
right road — is to be found in becoming good. That 
is to be our satisfaction. 

IV. The lessons we have had recently show us the 
secret of morality. The secret of being moral and 
doing the right is in religion. We have almost, if not 
quite, made religion and morality one and the same 
thing. 

Religion is more than morality, but morality is a 
great part of religion. Religion is the thought and 
the life which lead men to God. In living so that 
we may reach our Heavenly Father, we must take 



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THE RIGHT ROAD. 



morality into our life. Religion makes us careful to 
study what is right, and to get a moral growth. 

Again, if we wish to make an arrow from a bow go 
as far, say, as a hundred feet, we try to send it as far 
as ever it will go. So, if we intend to please our 
Heavenly Father, by getting his Life, that is our 
utmost, and we shall surely study and practise 
morality. 

Who helps us to become good 

God. 

A moral life is not easily lived. There is much to 
make it hard. Our passions are often against it. 
Then, there are others who treat us badly, even when 
we are trying to do right, and we get discouraged. 

There is a very beautiful story told of a little boy who be- 
longed to a family which had great soldiers in its history. He 
had a high spirit, and longed to become a soldier — a great sol- 
dier. He had a frightful fall, however, which injured his back 
and made him a cripple for life. And the whisper that he would 
die at an early age reached him in some way. Of course, he 
gave up all idea of becoming a soldier. Well, he was lame and 
sick, for a few years before he died. In his pain, he became a 
very fretful and selfish child. Nearly every one spoiled him. 
He could only walk a short distance on crutches, and was wheeled 
about in an easy-chair, with his crutches beside him. If the least 
little thing was done that displeased him, no matter if it was 
through mistake, he would get into a violent temper. His arms 
were strong, and, as he reclined in his chair, he would take up a 
crutch and strike the servant who attended him. She loved him 
very much, for she had nursed him in his childhood, or she never 
would have stood his unjust fits of rage. Indeed, it was she who 
chiefly spoiled him, because,- in her ignorant love for him, she 
knew no better. He was very fond of a great black dog, which 
he had caressed from the time when it was a litde puppy. This 
dog was greatly attached to the little cripple. They hved to- 



SERVICE. 



279 



gether so closely, that never an hour were they separated. The 
dog slept on or beside the boy's bed. When the little mas- 
ter's meals were brought, the dog's food also came with them. 
The great black creature trotted beside the easy-chair ; and if 
any one carried the little cripple in arms, the dog would carry 
the crutches. Well, once in a fit of rage, the boy beat the good 
dog with a crutch. 

What was to be done with such a boy? It was a sad, very 
sad thing to see him becoming a slave to such a wicked tem- 
per. Who could have the heart to punish him ? What could 
talking and coaxing do ? Very little, it seemed. Any good that 
might come would be hindered by his father and his nurse. The 
father was as unwise, in his love for the child, as was the nurse. 
If they would say, " Poor child ! it is a wonder that he stands 
his pain as well as he does ; any one would forgive his temper," 
and then cry over him, and fondle him, just after he had an attack 
of anger, — what good could be done by coaxing him not to be 
angry ? 

But he had a wise mother. Oh, how she loved him ! Just 
as much as either his father or his nurse, and perhaps more. 
She was grieving that her child's soul was growing into this 
horrid state. If any one loves another, and has wisdom, the 
faults of the loved one give very deep sorrow. The wise and 
loving mother saw that her child was getting more and more 
unhappy as his temper came on more frequently. But what 
was she to do 1 To have crossed him, by the least punishment, 
— say, by calling his favorite, the dog, away, saying that he 
should have the dog back when he became a good boy, would 
have increased the cripple's pain of body and mind. The mother 
had no more heart to do that than the father or the nurse. It 
was hard to tell what to do. But one day the right thing to do 
suddenly appeared to the mother. There was a great fit of 
anger on the boy. His mother came down from her room to 
the beautiful grounds of the mansion, and sent the nurse into 
the house, taking her place by the easy-chair to wheel it about. 

Then this mother did the only thing that could have been 
done to save her child from himself She gently spoke of his 
ambition for a soldier's life ; she told him that such ambition 



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THE RIGHT ROAD. 



was not all over if he would have it live. The wounds of a sol- 
dier, and his liability to cruel death, were talked of. The boy 
had been accustomed to all that. Wounds and death in service 
had no terror for him. One of his family whom he most admired 
was a soldier, only seventeen or eighteen years old, who had 
been killed urging on his men to fight to the death. Now he 
was told what it is to be a real soldier of Jesus Christ ; that 
sorrow and pain must be borne bravely ; that it is selfish and 
cowardly for an invalid to strike any one ; that ungovernable 
anger is a sin. 

Mrs. Ewing tells this "Story of a Short Life." 
We are shown how this sick boy's ambition was 
aroused to become a real soldier of Jesus Christ. It 
made his sad life one of the most beautiful examples 
of patient suffering down to his death. Religion 
brought into the life of the young lad all the morality 
of courage, gentleness, and patience. 

Jesus Christ means to make us moral by making 
our hearts good. We call Him our Saviour, and speak 
of Him as saving us. Now, He saves us, by saving 
us from sin. He wishes to take out of us what is 
wrong, and to make us good. That is His salvation. 
When at last He saves us into heaven, we shall be 
where any wish to do wrong can never come to us. 

If our hearts are good, we shall love the right. Then 
we shall do what we love to do, even if it be hard to 
do it. 

We have had stories of good men and women and 
children in our lessons. They loved the right, and 
took pleasure in doing it. They must have made 
mistakes sometimes — all of them. But they mended 
the mistakes as soon as they saw them, and as far as 
they could. 



SERVICE. 



281 



Do not forget that we learned, early in our lessons, 
that God commands any line of conduct because it is 
right, and forbids anything because it is bad. 

God is a kind and loving Heavenly Father, who 
asks of us the right, not only because He would have 
His way with us, but also because He knows what is 
good for iLS. 

When a kind and wise father tells his child to do 
anything, or tells him not to do a thing, it is not be- 
cause the father is strong, and the child is weak, and 
the father can make the child serve him under fear of 
punishment. There is always a good reason in the 
father's wise mind and loving heart. That is surely 
the case with everything that our Heavenly Father 
would have us do or not do. 

In these last lessons, we have come back to learn 
many of the very same truths we had in our first 
lessons. We commenced with God, and we have 
ended with God. We have been like a traveller who 
starts from home and goes around the world ; he fin- 
ishes his journey at home. But such a traveller, at 
the end of his journey, should be wiser as well as 
older ; he should have in his mind all that he learned 
at the places where he stopped, and along the road 
that he travelled. 

When, at the beginning of our lessons, we had God 
in our mind, it was only a hint of the high and holy 
life to which we should aspire, which came to us. 
We have been ascending since then, step by step. 
We considered the true self, but we began to study 
duty with reference to our body ; we had to learn of 
health, cleanliness, and temperance. We have come 



282 



THE RIGHT ROAD. 



up higher with each step, until we have reached God, 
to find how beautiful in His sight is every duty — 
whether it be little or great — and that all the virtues 
lead us toward Him our Heavenly Father. 

We came from God when we could not know 
whence we were. We were sent here to get growth 
and education and to do God's work. We should 
conquer any vice in us, because the Holy Spirit is 
given us to help and strengthen us. In coming from 
God, and going back to Him at our departure from 
earth, the true life is The Right Road. 



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